Brutte Parole
by Morgan Locklear
Summary: New York 1892: Bella and her fiancé, Edward, move to America only to discover that the city they chose as their new home is governed by someone from her past.  He needs Bella's help and he won't take 'no' for an answer. Sequel to Bella Voce.
1. Chapter 1: Theatre of the Absurd

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear didn't even change the names to protect the innocent.**

**Warning:**

**This is a continuation of **_**Bella Voce**_**.**

**Please begin with that story if you haven't already.**

**This story is rated M for adult themes, humpy humpy sex and moments of vampire kick-assery.**

_This next story is dedicated _to my son_._

_Who wants a zombie book when I'm done._

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**Prologue:**

New York City nudged the edges of her rivers and the ship traffic, especially in 1892, was almost chaotic. It appeared to be well choreographed, especially in the Upper Bay. The southern tip of Manhattan was covered with moored ships like barnacles on a whale. Among them sat the _La Touraine_, waiting to take the Cullens and a thousand other passengers to Le Havre, France.

Rosalie was riddled with joy. She kept looking over her shoulder at the massive ship that would deliver her into Jacob's arms in a week's time.

"It's still there," Carlisle said from behind his copy of _The New York Times_, a daily publication that had been in print for decades. He peeked over an editorial about Five Points to his daughter, who glared even as her grin exposed her unflappable mood.

Esme had seen the diner from the ship and better yet, she had smelled it, the earthy aroma of stew cooking and the heavy scent of honey in the wind. Standing on the deck of the _La Touraine_ clutching the silver locket that hung low around her neck, Esme imagined one last supper in the City.

When the porter assured her that the ship was staying put for hours she persuaded Carlisle and Rosalie to join her.

New York had worked its way into Esme's body and soul. She instantly felt that the city was _her_ city and that she was a part of everything that happened there. She discussed her feelings with Carlisle and was pleased to learn that he had a similar revelation. There was a fierce energy and a collective emotion in New York, especially on Manhattan Island.

When they first arrived, she had taken train rides with Carlisle every morning and remembered feeling dwarfed by the size and scope of the already developing boroughs but in time she learned the grid and it was a tremendous relief. It freed her to explore an ever widening circle in one of hundreds of sleek black single horse carriages that took her all over the city.

The Cullens initially referred to them as _hackney carriages_, but interestingly enough, the French _cabriolet_ style of the coach had New Yorkers calling them _cabs_ from the get go.

The sun had already traveled far into the west and slipped behind the hills so that the city was left to its own devices concerning light. But New York never failed to deliver, even near the waterfront. Esme, who was born in the City of Lights, gazed with wonder at the tall wharf buildings that stood protectively behind the smaller shops and eateries that catered to the dock traffic.

The family ate thick delicious stew, which was served with a whole loaf of sliced sourdough bread to sop it up. Carlisle and Rosalie drank coffee while Esme had two cups of sweet tea. They saw their Captain walk by, no doubt on his way to the vessel but they did not draw his attention.

There would be plenty of time to visit over the next six days at sea.

"Do you think Edward will disapprove of us moving to New York as well?" Esme asked for the twentieth time.

"Mother..." Rosalie began exasperated.

"He and Bella want us to be here," Carlisle said, still from behind his Times. "They have said as much. We'll all come back after the wedding and live happily ever after."

Rosalie laughed, she was certain that she and Jacob would marry one day but, ironically, did not feel the need to rush anything despite the fact that she and her parents were the only mortals left in the circle of friends. She would have fifty years with Jacob if she was lucky and then she would leave him to inhabit the earth and inherit the grief that would accompany her eventual death.

Rosalie had considered asking Bella or her brother to turn her but did not think that even the lure of everlasting love would be enough to deny her the natural course of her time on Earth. She did not know what the next life would hold for her, but she was positive that it was important she get there.

She loved the Cathedral of Saint Patrick on 50th and Fifth Avenue and wanted to marry Jacob there. It was astoundingly tall, five stories taller than the downtown Trinity Church, but she had a feeling that Jacob would prefer the old St Patrick's Cathedral and cemetery on Mulberry St. It was in the heart of what was already being called 'Old New York' and it's parish was made up of people from its three nearest neighborhoods, Little Italy, Chinatown, and SOHO.

"Well, our place won't be as fancy as the new theatre but we'll be quite comfortable up next to Central Park," Esme said.

Outside, two well-dressed men in top hats were helping an older man down from a very long carriage. It was painted maroon, highly polished and trimmed in silver. It was also pulled by four horses.

Carlisle folded his paper down and looked at the two women. "Plus, we won't come into the city to bother you very often."

"Where did you find the land?" Rosalie asked.

"House!" Carlisle cheered."A beautiful house on West 78th. The map I have is a year old so it shows just a lot but it's there. Your mother has seen it, of course, and we are quite taken with the design. I'm having Randall look after both places until we return."

Rosalie did not understand why anybody would want to go above 59th Street. "What are you going to do way out there?"

"Live the country life," Carlisle replied with a smile just for Esme. She blushed slightly and smiled back at him before he turned his attention back to the paper.

"We bought the place with the money Bella gave us and still had some left over," Esme told Rosalie. "We just spotted it the day before yesterday and fell in love with it. We can retire out there between the Hudson River and the Park. It will be peaceful."

"Will a cab take us up that far?" Rosalie asked, her grin changing the sound of her words enough so that even Carlisle could tell she was joking without looking up from his paper.

The door to the diner opened and three gentlemen removed their top hats simultaneously. They all wore fitted evening jackets and vests and had shoes that reflected enough light to make Esme swear she saw one of their chins light up.

One of them noticed her as well.

It was the older gentleman. He was taller than the other two but didn't look strong enough to hold the weight of the rings on his narrow fingers. His ice blue eyes first fixed on her neck and then on her face. He looked surprised to the point of shock but only for a split second.

He walked over slowly, allowing the ever widening grin on his face to distort it into a mask of foolish horror.

"That is a lovely locket you are wearing, Madame," he said in a cramped voice, "but it is not yours."

Esme did not know what to make of the man. His tone was neither accusatory nor was it an attempt at humor. He merely stated a fact. Then he just stood there, staring down at her.

She wondered briefly how he could have known that the locket did not belong to her before cold terror dripped down her face like sweat. She instantly theorized that if he knew Bella then he was probably just like her.

And now he looked hungry.

When Carlisle cleared his throat the elderly man met his eyes and smiled. He had a wild look up close, like a wolf ready to pounce. He gazed from Carlisle to Rosalie and froze.

"Stai buona, ragazza mia," Michael said as he shook his head slowly at the blonde who fixed him with a steaming stare.

He then whispered something over his shoulder and the men he arrived with approached the table.

"What is the meaning of this?" Carlisle demanded.

"Forgive me, sir," he said with a bow that gave them all a good look at his thick white hair. "My name is Michael and I frequent this diner often enough to know that you are new to it."

Michael ventured to the docks most evenings and perused the immigrants arriving to the new city. Many of them made for good cuisine and would hardly be missed but, as luck would have it, Michael was fond of coffee. Like Bella, he got cold easily and he could feel the warm liquid even better than the blood of a fresh kill. Esme stared into his winter morning eyes. Her own eyes were big and glassy. "We were on our way to..."

"What do you want?" Carlisle asked calmly.

Michael was furious that the man at the table interrupted his wife just as she was about to reveal their destination and did so without the return courtesy of introducing himself. He decided that he would examine these humans further. And at his pleasure, not theirs.

"I am curious about you three people." Michael's voice made him sound both angry and exhausted. "And when I want to know more about something I cannot be deterred."

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed the silver locket around Esme's neck and used it to pull her to her feet.

Carlisle was standing in an instant but he was knocked out with a single savage gloved fist to the side of his head, delivered by a well-positioned footman. Rosalie stood as well, a shout on her lips, but she was subdued with a strong arm around her neck before she could do as much as draw a breath. Esme screamed and the diner quieted but the elderly man addressed them with a sweeping stare that sent the crowd's gazes to the ground. It was clear to Rosalie that he was not intimidating them, but controlling them somehow. If she had ever actually watched one of Bella's Paris shows, instead of making animal love to Jacob, she might have recognized the glazed look in their eyes.

"Now," the man said as he pulled Esme by the chain until her nose was almost touching his, her feet halfway off the floor. "Who gave you that locket?"

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**Chapter One:**

**Theatre of the Absurd**

New York harbor gaped at the Atlantic Ocean like a toothless old man as the western sky darkened to a plum color and pushed black shadows back into the water next to the docks. The lights from the wharf competed with those moving on the choppy surface of the bay as Bella stared blankly up at the thin, well dressed vampire in front of her.

His introduction was formal but she saw the way Rosalie was quickly led away and felt the frost coming from him. It was as if he radiated cold.

Edward did not need to read Jacob's mind to know that he was readying himself for a fight with the fashionable foes. He fell back and put a hand on his friend's quivering arm, then looked over at Jasper, hoping to be reassured by the battle hardened companion. He was met only with a dumbfounded stare.

Jasper was not surprised easily but the sudden appearance of so many vampires shook him deeply. He should have been able to see them. He was curious about it but felt something else as well, fear. The men in top hats on either side of him were giving them space but were solely focused on the small group of fresh foreigners.

Edward's eye contact rallied Jasper's instincts and he quickly assessed the situation.

It was hopeless.

Bella did not need anyone to tell her that. She was already convinced that they, whoever they were, had the upper hand. Clearly they were vampires but, more importantly, they had control of the humans.

"Have they been harmed?" Bella asked Riley calmly. She was thinking of the days and days Edward's family must have spent at the hands of these monsters.

He hesitated. "We had trouble with the young blonde at first, but her hand is healing nice..."

Jacob broke. He lunged right for the leader but Riley was gone when he got there. The rest of the dapper vampires closed in on the group fast and, as they did, Jasper and Alice were pushed roughly into Edward.

There was now a complete circle around the five of them. Jacob was quickly subdued by the venomous faces of over twenty vampires that were all old enough to remember General Washington riding into New York long before he was ever President of the United States of America.

Riley spoke with a silky confidence that made Jacob twitch and Jasper vow to be the one who wiped the smirk off his face. "You are all coming with us but I need only Bella alive. Remember that." He turned to Jacob. "The blonde girl, Rosalie, is in a cab only two blocks away and I will take you to her right now as long as you behave. "He looked at the group again. "All of you."

"Lead the way," Bella told him curtly.

The circle parted and Riley walked briskly away from the port. They followed him and a sea of top hats brought up the rear.

Back at the barge, Emmett was sitting on Jacob's carriage and frowning. He watched his friends first surrounded and then escorted away without as much as a glance in his direction. He knew in his heart that he should remain undetected.

God told him to stay out of sight and Emmett dare not disobey the thundering voice that had filled his head with instruction and guidance since he was a child.

He followed and watched as everyone got into one of nine black, open air carriages parked along the high curb of Broadway, an enormously wide avenue that ran straight up the middle of the island, North to South.

Emmett could see that they were being directed by a tall thin man who eventually put himself into the second cab with Bella and Edward. The first had already pulled away and Emmett was certain that he saw both of Edward's parents inside as well as an older man with long white hair.

Jacob was allowed run to Rosalie, who threw herself gratefully into his arms. They stood in the cab and held each other tightly. For the first time in months the world stood still for the both of them.

They were allowed their moment but it was excruciatingly short.

"What happened to you?" Jacob whispered and that was all it took for the blond woman to dissolve into tears.

Emmett could hear her sobs from a block away.

The outburst agitated Riley but he made no attempt to silence the woman. Instead he began hustling everyone into cabs.

Jasper and Alice were seated together with two escorts, just like Rosalie and Jacob. The last four cabs were completely filled with the rest of the well-dressed men. As Jasper helped Alice into their cab he noticed Emmett keeping his distance. Emmett saw his maker flash a smile but could not fully interpret it.

Even then, New York was a vertical city. The hotels and residence buildings, called compartment buildings by some, were all blisteringly tall at five stories a piece. The public buildings were at least thirty feet tall and office buildings like the Tribune scraped the sky at sixty feet.

The open cabs gave Edward and Bella a panoramic view of the slowly unraveling stonescape. It was a never-ending parade of lit windows, narrow alleys and shop fronts. When they crossed at intersections**, **the effect of the tall buildings made looking down each street a feast for the imagination.

Large intersections were also governed by men in dark blue wool coats with large golden shields over their hearts. Some of them wore white gloves and the sight made Bella think of Laurent's drumsticks, painted white because he wanted to make sure she could see him keep time from the dark pit. She thought of the things she had hidden from him and, in that moment, Bella realized she was now the one who knew nothing.

"Where are you taking us?" she asked Riley, who was seated directly across from her with his hands neatly folded in his lap.

"We are going to 110th and Cathedral Parkway," Riley answered honestly, smugly aware that the information meant nothing to the couple.

"Is that above Central Park?" Edward asked.

Riley sniffed. He was surprised but not impressed. "Directly above, as a matter of fact." He spoke with an aristocracy that dripped with entitlement. "All of Central Park is our front yard; it is positively the most desirable..."

"Thanks," Edward said sardonically. "But I just needed to know if it was going to be a long ride or not." With that he took off his coat and wrapped it around Bella.

Riley huffed and looked out the side of the cab as they passed 14th Street where Broadway merged into Park Avenue South. He openly scoffed at Edward's human gesture. A thousand sights, sounds and smells shambled past as they rode for a while without speaking.

Jasper had his arm around Alice and was looking out at the city like he was kid on vacation. He was still distressed about not detecting the American vampires but had composed himself and, upon taking stock, had even been encouraged. None of his group had been searched let alone disarmed. He could not believe how foolish the oversight was but it proved that their ambassadors did not know who they were dealing with. It was also lucky that Emmett was behind with the horses. The broadsword he carried was as big as King Arthur's and, at the very least, would give them away as mercenaries.

Edward still held his cane. The thin blade was neatly tucked into a bed of fine saw dust at the bottom of the hollow tube to keep it from rattling. He also had another blade and Jasper could see it, his wide brimmed hat bobbing up and down two cabs ahead. That hat alone could behead six men with one throw. Edward could hear his friend watching him and the sensation was ghostly.

Bella had her metal fan but her reach with the razor whip was superior and Jasper knew how she favored it. Just behind her cab and directly ahead of his, Jacob no doubt was feeling the weight of the double headed axe he kept at his back.

Jasper had his twin sickles and, next to him, Alice was carrying a rapier similar to the one Edward owned. Hers was hibernating inside her dainty parasol and she had such a tight grip on it that her small fingers pressed dents into the metal rendering it a truly customized weapon.

Still keeping pace behind them, Emmett had his broadswords, his blunderbuss pistol and Jasper's crossbow. Jasper was confident that they could do some serious damage if the time came. The problem was in knowing when or if an opportunity would present itself.

One thing Jasper understood was that their escorts did not seem like the type of men who got dirty very often.

Bella looked to the left as they traveled past 34th Street. She thought she caught a glimpse of the Theatre of the Heart on Eighth Avenue but it was two blocks to the West and the surrounding architecture blocked proper views of anything. What she saw was a bit of the tower that sat at the southeast corner.

Riley had recovered from Edward's guile and was pointing out all the businesses that he and his associates had a piece of. He spoke nonstop from 36th Street to 59th Street, where they reached the bottom edge of Central Park. They turned onto 59th and traveled east to Fifth Avenue where they turned back up north and skated the edge of the massive wilderness in the middle of the island.

Rosalie pointed out St. Patrick's cathedral to Jacob as they passed 50th. It was a few blocks to their right but, unlike the modest theatre, it towered over the surrounding structures. Jacob had seen illustrations of the masterpiece and had even incorporated some ideas he had gotten from its design into his own, mostly on the inside of the lobby and the residence areas above the auditorium. He held her hand tightly and occasionally looked back at Jasper and Alice in the cab behind him.

The park was so wide that Alice found it difficult to see any details on the other side. They sped up as the traffic grew sparse, intensifying the wind that slapped them in their faces as the bulk of the city fell behind them.

All of their escorts rode with their backs to the wind.

Emmett became more obvious in tailing them as the buildings gave way to grand houses with generous side yards, some big enough to support small crops. By the time the convoy was at 85th Street he was way back on 80th but still felt about as conspicuous as the Pope at a pie eating contest.

They were all treated to a magnificent collection of mansions along the east side of the park. They were all built in a multitude of architectural styles by French merchants, Dutch masons, English furniture makers, Spanish sailors and any number of prosperous families.

Every home reflected the owner's desire to bring a bit of their own heritage to New York. It was a parade of varying styles and colors but many of them shared one attribute, a courtyard garden that opened onto the street. Having the front doors on the inside of such a reversed layout was in vogue and made quite a statement when paying someone a visit on the East side, which was considered far superior to the West side.

Each garden gate was more elaborate than the last and Rosalie was quite fond of the layout. She had taken the ride before and had multiple opportunities to admire a design that claimed no origin.

At 110th Street all the cabs turned right and stopped along a brick topped stone wall that was rounded to accommodate a black iron gate that resembled a spider web.

Michael rode with Carlisle and Esme in near silence.

Seeing Bella again had filled him with a sudden shame for his recent actions and the pinwheels spinning in his mind pushed harsh light through his eyes. They began to hurt and he hoped he wasn't going to have one of his spells.

Carlisle watched as Michael held his head in bony fingers that reminded him of white spider legs. He and his family had been treated well enough but being held against your will, no matter how pleasant the surroundings, is still imprisonment. He told his captor that he was medically trained after Rosalie fractured her hand by smashing it into the smiling face of Riley. He had leered at her a little too long.

Michael had let Carlisle wrap his daughter's throbbing hand but refused the offer to be examined for his headaches. Even after Carlisle took a calculated risk and told Michael that he knew the man's immortal secret, he was politely but firmly refused.

Michael had been very intrigued however to learn that Carlisle, and presumably his family, was familiar with the world of vampires. He was even more curious as to how Carlisle seemed to accept their existence as a matter of course.

That revelation had earned them all a private audience with Michael, one in which they remembered very little, only feeling groggy but giddy for hours afterward. Michael was content to largely ignore them after that, but reprimanded Riley once for his inattentiveness and insisted that he provide the humans with proper nourishment whenever they required it.

Ever mindful of his duty to heal all suffering and having been put so close to a man in obvious agony, Carlisle dipped his head to catch Michael's eye. "Tell me where it hurts."

Michael looked up and removed his hand from his head. "It doesn't," he replied thickly. His voice always sounded strained but now it was stretched as thin as the thread sticking up from the driver's heavy overcoat.

Carlisle did not press the issue and it did not matter. They had arrived at Michael's manor and walked inside with him before the other cabs arrived.

Bella and Edward waited for the rest of the group before they entered the house. Like many of the others, the main entrance was the reverse of what they were used to in Paris. The tall wings of the house were separated by a garden entrance that was wide enough to turn a carriage around in. There were three stone fountains and the Roman columns that supported the massive balcony were a dead giveaway of the Italian design.

Ivy grew so freely that the entire courtyard was a mass of green leaves. Riley shuddered as he passed through it. Michael had once suggested to him that the leaves were actually millions of green hands all reaching for him and he could never shake the vision or the dread it produced.

Michael was unfair but Riley considered himself fortunate. It could have been much worse; he had seen men so horror struck that they had wept and then screamed their throats raw. They had even bashed their heads against the bricked cellar of the mansion to rid themselves of the imposed visions.

Edward was eager to embrace his sister as she and Jacob approached him. Because he risked allowing himself access to the thoughts around him once they reached the less populated area, he heard her fume at him even as they hugged.

_I was trying to warn you, you imbecile_.

Edward smiled and released her. "I was...distracted. Where are they?"

"Michael left with them as soon as he knew they were spotted from the ship."

"Who?" Bella heard the name as she spoke it but her eyes had already found him, wearing a grey suit with a vest and fitted evening jacket. He was standing on the landing where the grand staircase split in half to scale the rose walls. His top hat was under his arm and his fluffy white hair was stuck up in one spot where it had followed in the hat's wake.

"Michael," Rosalie said again and her voice carried throughout the silent room. Everyone was gathered in the large entryway and the escorts sat along the wall on dark polished benches that could have once been church pews. They sat quietly waiting for Michael to speak.

"I hope you all know what a wonderful reunion you are about to witness," he announced before walking down the stairs to face Bella, who was shocked into silence. As Michael closed the distance between them, Jasper saw the yellow sparks that sprang to life between their eyes. He was relieved that he still had some powers of observation but did not like the way the older man stalked towards his friend, even if he was her maker. He was dismayed to accept that unless he listened for their heartbeats, or lack thereof, he would still have no idea that he was surrounded by vampires.

Jasper watched as Bella and Michael regarded each other and as Carlisle and Esme entered the room from the west parlor. They were allowed to go to Edward and did so as though he was the one in peril.

Edward listened intently to Michael's mind as he descended the staircase. He was aided by the fact that the majority of those present were obediently silent even in thought. Even his parents, now at his side, were still.

Michael's head sounded like a calliope chugging away while its cart rolled down a muddy carnival track. He spoke to himself in both English and Italian and there was a far off sound of laughing.

Or crying.

Or both.

Edward could also hear someone reciting verses. He could not decide if they were a part of a sonnet or a psalm.

"Sister Swan," Michael said quietly to her. "I didn't mean to cause you trouble but when I recognized your locket on," he waved his hand, "the woman, I had no choice but to pursue the only avenue I had available to me."

"You could have started by not assaulting and kidnapping me and my family," Carlisle said loudly.

Michael stayed focused on Bella. He was extremely cavalier about the matter at hand, almost to the point of sarcasm. "I am truly sorry for mishandling your humans. I only wanted to see you again."

"Her name is Esme," Bella stated quietly.

"Pardon?" Michael leaned in to Bella's whisper unable to suppress a grin.

"Her...name...is...ESME!" Bella shouted ferociously. "And are you telling me that YOU are responsible for making them miss their ship back to PARIS?"

Michael turned to Carlisle and looked at him with reproach. He had hypnotized the family numerous times and while he had gotten all the information he wanted easily enough, Carlisle had proven particularly stubborn. It took Michael two minutes to get him to divulge the name of his home town. Two minutes was unheard of under Michael's scrutiny. The human doctor was commended for his efforts but was ultimately lucky to be spared a drooling existence and Michael felt that his generosity was not being properly revered. He wanted to point out to the human that he made things unnecessarily difficult especially considering how effortlessly Bella had shouted that one little word herself.

"See there, you fool," Michael scolded the frowning doctor. "You could have saved yourself a lot of..."

"And HIS name is CARLISLE!" Bella's shout forced Michael to swivel his head back her way.

It was met with a slap.

Three things happened at once. Every man wearing a top hat stood up, Alice drew her pulled weapon and Michael grabbed Bella by the hair.

Edward roared in outrage as the older man yanked Bella's head sideways but the appearance of six long daggers at his throat forced him to stay where he was. Riley himself plucked Alice's rapier from her hand and sent her to the ground with an elbow to her nose. Jasper, like Edward, was forced to remain still by the presence of multiple blades. But hot fury spilled from his eyes.

"Disarm them!" Riley shouted and they all were immediately tossed for weapons. Jasper was relieved of his sickles and his punching dagger. Jacob, Edward and Bella were all liberated of their concealed blades as well.

Michael whispered softly in Bella's ear with dry lips. "I have diminishing moments of clarity child." His voice was strangled with what could have been restraint. "Sometimes my men even find me raving madly like a loon." His breath was cold and brushed the side of her face like a funeral veil. "but I will NOT, ABIDE, BEING, STRUCK!" He yanked on her hair with his last words making her whimper.

"Enough!" Edward bellowed, the desperation stark in his plea. "What do you want with us?" His fury wrapped him in a cloud of red revenge but he knew that this was not the time and place for a war.

Michael released Bella but the group remained at blade point. "Finally, someone with something sensible to say. What is your name my boy?"

"My name is Edward and I am..."

"What you are Edward," Michael interrupted, "Is young..." Michael sniffed the air. "very very young. And as to your question, I want Bella to help me translate a book." He let go of her hair and held up his hands innocently. "That's all."

Bella look confused. She stared at Michael, hard. Finally, she shook her head and wiped at her cheek. "Why not just reach out in friendship and ask for my help? Why would you be so...forceful?" She rubbed the place where her hair was sticking up in a savage tangle.

Michael looked around at the men holding their metal to his guests. Suddenly it all seemed way too dramatic for the occasion. He began to wonder if he was sane even when he knew he wasn't acting insane. It was flimsy logic and Edward heard every word of it.

Michael was also keenly aware of his ever increasing spells but took solace in the fact that he found himself able to critique his madness objectively. He shrugged his shoulders at Bella like he was a child who could not come up with a satisfactory explanation to a stern inquiry. "I didn't know what else to do," he answered looking at Riley, who nodded and lowered the dagger he had pointed at Alice's throat. The others followed suit and the room was momentarily serenaded with the musical sound of over twenty blades being sheathed. Edward saw thin pale green sound-waves erupt from the friction points and spill down the legs of the tailored army.

Michael was prone to falling into memories like they were hidden wells. As a result, he found himself in Bella's company often and fondly thought of the 1530's as the last good years of his life. She was a stunning student and the night he bit her in the Elsebridge library it was not to protect her from the plague, but from him.

He lost himself in that cold December ghost, taking Edward along for the ride and recalled that by the time Bella woke up the next day he was already delirious with hunger. He would have fed on his dear friend instantly had she not been changed. Michael was centuries old even then and was desperately thirsty the night he ran into the library with news that the church had been taken by the sick. Bella, not surprisingly, was the only person in the room.

He acted fast before he lost his nerve or, worse yet, his self-control. He could not stand to lose Bella but it came at a price. What he did lose in those weeks of torture locked in the library and starving was a significant connection to the world around him.

He recalled that he read from the Bible those first few days to calm himself but it was so full of talk about blood that he was forced to stop.

Edward listened to Michael's fluttering thoughts and would have felt pity for the man if not for his recent treatment of Bella.

Michael looked into Bella's eyes and she saw the shame stamped on his face like a cattle brand. "I couldn't remember if you would even speak to me again," he said finally.

"Why would you think that?" she asked.

"Actually," Esme stepped forward, "he was quite convinced that had killed you at some point and had imagined all the rest."

Bella was shocked. "Is this true?"

"Until I saw the locket, I wasn't sure if you were a dream or not." Michael was telling the truth. "It was such a long time ago."

Bella softened, Carlisle bristled.

"We were malnourished at best," Carlisle fumed. "And I will be going straight to the authorities as soon as we get out of here."

The men all laughed but Michael silenced them with a hand. "I am not as accustomed to humans as I once was," he said, still addressing Bella. "I fear that my addled brain has led me to make irrational decisions and I apologize sincerely." Michael blinked and raised his voice. "Riley, give them back their weapons."

Michael reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out Bella's locket. When he held it out to her, she shook her head. "I'm not the one you should be returning that to," she said while crossing her arms.

Edward could tell that Michael was annoyed but he really needed Bella for something and did not want things to deteriorate any further than they already had. Michael crossed to Esme as the taken blades were redistributed to their owners. He held out the locket.

"I have no excuse for taking this from you, Madame. I offer my most humble apology and will compensate you for your troubles." Michael was convincing and, after Esme took the locket, he bowed deeply and shuffled away. Edward knew this gesture was difficult for him, both physically and emotionally.

"We don't want your money. We just want to go home." Carlisle was determined to get his family out of there that night. He had seen both his wife and daughter give up hope at least once within the walls of Michael's home and it sent rivers of panic through his heart each time he thought about it.

"And so you shall," Michael told him. "I believe there is a stocky fellow driving a handsome black carriage back and forth outside. Maybe you could get him to give you a ride."

Carlisle could not mask his surprise, his horror. "Emmett? What did you bring Emmett for?"

"It's a long story," Jasper told him, "but I had to turn Emmett the night you all left for Le Havre."

Rosalie and Esme gasped. Rosalie put her hands to her mouth but they could all hear her muffled and grief stricken voice. "Oh no."

"You are all free to go with my profound apologies...if...Bella agrees to return tomorrow and assist me with a translation."

"Why should I help you?" Bella asked reasonably. "Your apology is appreciated, but I owe you no kind of cooperation in return."

_That's my girl. _Edward's outward smile exposed his thought. He could see that Jacob and Rosalie were also pleased to hear Bella's response. Michael was not pleased, anyone could see that, but Edward could hear thoughts that sounded like genuine remorse. He determined that listening to Michael's mind was like listening to a wolf pack with every beast barking at once but that didn't mean he was impossible to read, just challenging.

Michael swallowed hard. It appeared that he was struggling with something and then a single blue tear plummeted from his eye. He left the room the way he had come. He climbed the stairs slowly, not speaking to or looking at anyone.

Bella watched him in silence. She was numb from having just seen her oldest friend in the world act like a lunatic and she did not believe for a moment that he was giving up.

Upon his exit, Riley spoke plainly to Carlisle. "I have been instructed to release you along with these..." he looked at Jacob and cocked his head to the side. Edward heard his mind working on the puzzle. "...vampires but only because you clearly know how to keep a secret. Not that anyone would believe you if you talked."

Riley turned to address Carlisle. "Go with your friends and remember to ask them how hard it was for us not to kill you. You were given more courtesy than any human deserves." He refocused on Bella. "You have a power over him. I wouldn't squander it if I were you."

Riley then walked away and two dozen men scattered like bats. Esme was not going to wait for any further sign that she was free. She walked through the front doors at a trot and Rosalie was right behind her. They both thought the scenario seemed too good to be true, but they were eager to play along.

The rest of the group caught up with them and, sure enough, Emmett approached the house. He stopped at the sight of his traveling companions as well as Rosalie and her parents.

Jacob and Rosalie climbed up and sat next to him while the rest of the group squeezed into the carriage. She sat next to him, her eyes inches from his. "Oh Emmett. I'm so sorry."

"Hello, Rosalie," Emmett greeted. "It was my fault, but I'm glad now that it happened."

He was confused about what was going on but knew that they would explain everything to him eventually and that they were in a hurry. As soon as he heard the door to the carriage close, he signaled the lead horse with the light touch of an experienced whip and trotted them west on 110th.

"Turn at the corner, Emmett," Rosalie instructed, "onto Eighth Avenue." Emmett recognized the street as the theatre's address and was glad that all he had to do was head south until he saw it.

Rosalie snuggled into Jacob's warm and welcoming arms but she kept her eyes on Emmett. Vampirism suited him but he seemed too innocent for the condition. Even more so than her brother. "I'm glad you are here Emmett, but I wish things would have been different for you."

Jacob had grown to consider Emmett as a brother, a little brother who needed to be watched all the time but a brother just the same. It was not clear whether he still had feelings for Rosalie but Emmett had promised Jacob to forever remain a gentleman.

Emmett was thinking about that promise as he sat next to Rosalie on the bench.

He regretted making it.

Inside the coach, Bella was apologizing for Michael's abhorrent behavior. Carlisle and Esme would have none of it but Edward could hear both of their worried minds praying that it was truly over. They confirmed that they were not physically abused but that the house was a festival of ungodly sights and sounds.

Carlisle was sitting between Esme and Edward on the backwards facing bench. He was looking directly at Bella, who was separating Jasper and Alice. "I don't think you should ever go back there," he warned her. "Michael is not right in the head.**"**

They passed 78th Street and Jacob looked over at the house he knew Dr. Cullen had recently purchased.

He was the only one who did.

Carlisle and Esme had already decided to sell that property without ever going back inside. It was simply too close to Michael.

The lights of downtown New York made a pale yellow dome cloud over the city as the nine of them traveled within the moon fueled shadow of the trees that lined the western edge of Central Park.

Rosalie kept looking behind them so Jacob took her hand. "You don't have to worry about them anymore my love." He spoke quietly.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, skeptical despite finally being next to her love, even if it meant sharing the whip's bench with Emmett.

"Because I'm taking you and your parents back to Paris until we get this cleared up."

He expected resistance but Rosalie just shrugged her shoulders. "Don't you think they would have killed us by now if that's what they wanted?"

"I don't know what they'll do," Jacob admitted, "but I am getting you out of their grasp."

"Is that even possible?" Rosalie asked sincerely.

Jacob honored her with an honest answer. "I don't know."

"I'll go with you to protect the Cullens," Emmett offered.

"No," Jacob said forcefully. "I need to know that Bella is safe while I'm away. I need you to protect her." What Jacob really wanted, however, was not to separate Emmett from those who could hear his thoughts and the voice that he believed was God. He made a mental note to tell Rosalie and her parents not to mention Edward's mind reading ability to Emmett.

"Alright, Jacob." Emmett knew the importance of the request. He had spent six months in his new life with his new friends and knew the history between Jacob and Bella was generations old.

They reached Columbus Circle at the southwest corner of the park. The Theatre of the Heart would be on their right, exactly twenty five blocks further down. Edward began to hear hundreds of voices turn to thousands and all thinking in a dozen different languages. Carlisle recognized the pained look on his son's face and said something that Edward would retain from that moment on. "Quit trying to hear what they're saying, Edward. Pretend that it's just the roaring of the sea."

It was easier said than done, but Carlisle's words gave Edward an image to associate with the thunderous sound and that allowed him to get used to it. Edward resisted dulling his senses in order to let the individual voices become a wave of white noise and it was because he did that he knew they were being followed.

"Riley," Edward whispered.

"What about Riley?" Esme asked.

"I can hear him," Edward answered. "He's behind us but he's not thinking about us. He's hungry and wants to go to something called a Bowery."

"It figures." Carlisle laughed. "The Bowery is an easy place to disappear."

Edward chuckled, he knew that they had enough blood for their needs that night and one other but soon they would need to find a way to feed without victimizing the innocent. He could still hear Riley thinking about feeding and something else, some kind of message.

The Theatre of the Heart looked almost like the residence it was. It was after all a gigantic home sitting in the Garment District, as ornate as a church but as open and welcoming as a train station. The entrance was facing Eighth Avenue and Emmett pulled up right in front.

Jacob felt the prickling sensation of newborn tears erupting from his overwhelmed eyes. He was so swollen with pride for Rosalie and Carlisle that he felt like a hot air balloon capable of floating away. He even thought about how he would get past the cat's cradle of telephone lines that crisscrossed above their heads.

Jacob followed the theatre's own graph line to the building as he faced the entryway. The keystone in the arch had the theatre's name carved into it and wide stone steps ended at two sets of heavy wooden doors with stained glass. Four rounded panes showed depictions of the Eiffel Tower at different parts of the day. Dawn, noon, twilight and midnight. Jacob was moved and sniffed loudly.

"Take us around the corner please," Rosalie requested before anyone could step out. "The stable entrance is around back." She wanted to get off the street and inside the secure theatre, both Emmett and Jacob could sense it.

Emmett did as he was asked and those in the carriage were treated to a vertical tour of the building as they looked up through the glass in the roof. They were taken past the rounded seven story tower that made up the southeast corner and along the 34th street side of the new structure. Emmett, Jacob and Rosalie could hear Carlisle chattering away inside the coach.

The street level of the theatre was divided between the lavish stable equipped to house six horses and up to four carriages, and what would be storage for large set pieces and painted flats. As they rode through another twenty foot archway Jacob saw that the keystone also had something carved into it:

Black

And

Black

"I thought that we would turn some of our ideas into enterprises," Rosalie informed Jacob. "And I don't want to have to redo the engraving later."

Jacob was pleased, beyond happy in fact to see her think of them as Black and Black. He also knew that any one of her ideas could make them all even wealthier than they were.

Halfway through the arch Jacob noticed another addition, an iron gate recessed into the wall that looked like it could be pulled across the opening. "It was made clear to us that your original design lacked proper security measures," she explained. "New York is full of locks. Randall must be inside somewhere. He'll want to meet you."

"Why are there so many locks?" Jacob asked as Emmett brought the coach to a stop.

"A long history of riots," Rosalie told him.

"Riots!" Jacob was astonished. "I've heard of no such thing."

"That's because there haven't been any for almost thirty years," Carlisle said as he stepped out of the coach. "Not since the Civil War. What's got you so worried about riots?"

Jacob jumped down from the bench and turned to help Rosalie but Emmett had already offered his hand. "Rosalie was explaining the gate."

"Ah yes," Carlisle said, "well you'll find many small changes and surprises but we were diligent about your specifications."

"I have no doubt," Jacob scooped Carlisle into his arms and hugged him roughly. "It's magnificent."

Edward nudged his squirming father. "I'd hate to see what he does to you once he sees the inside." They all laughed which is what Edward wanted and he had their attention which is what he needed. "We were followed here. By Riley."

"I don't understand," Esme stepped quickly from the carriage and moved to the side. "Michael already knows about this place. I told him myself..." Esme turned to Bella. "I couldn't help it...it was like... I was a tea cup and he just... turned me over and... everything I knew just spilled out."

"He doesn't know everything," Bella reminded her gently. "You obviously didn't speak of our abilities." She looked up and addressed Jasper whom she suspected had already noticed the discrepancy. "If he knew what we were capable of I don't think he would have let us leave...so easily."

"To that end," Jasper observed, he and Alice were close to the horses and each had been lured by the velvety feel of their soft ears. "We don't know what _they_ are capable of. Riley could be listening to this conversation right now."

"He's right," Carlisle agreed. "I honestly don't think any of them possess anything beyond normal vampire strength except for Michael's ability to command the mind."

Bella opened her mouth to speak but Carlisle held a finger to his lips. "But to be safe, I don't think any of us should state anything obvious out loud."

Bella nodded her head, she was in fact going to make a general comparison to her own abilities but Carlisle's warning packed a punch so she remained silent.

"Bella?" Rosalie stepped forward and looked at all the others as if she was gathering something from each of them before continuing. "Michael told us that he was your maker. Is that true?"

"I'll explain everything," Bella promised, "but first I want to see my theatre."

There were two doors leading into the theatre from the stable, one at the base of the tower and the other several feet away. There was an incinerator between them as well as an elevator bay.

"Jacob has a private entrance to his living quarters as you can see," Carlisle said as he started walking towards the arch that led back to the street. "But I want to take you in through the lobby doors."

They waited a few moments for Jacob to get the horses settled into their new and roomy stalls. Carlisle ran water into the common trough while Emmett took each of them a huge armful of hay.

When they walked out through the stone arch New York greeted them with a summer breeze and display of lighted windows. They walked along 34th Street and politely waved at Riley, who sat in a cab reading a newspaper. He returned the gesture then began reading again.

That area of town was bustling. They could see multiple shops and compartment buildings and each one looked lively. There was a song playing, a phonograph in an open window above a seamstress and shoe repair shop. It was playing something foreign to their ears and the pale green drapes that guarded it waved in time to the music. Edward could see the purple and hazy yellow sound-waves spilling around them.

The streets were littered with horse drawn carriages, some big enough to swallow Jacob's whole but most were like the ones that took them out past Central Park.

No one in the city wanted to keep a horse especially when they could get across town for a penny. There was no cab company yet so the fares varied from driver to driver. Carlisle told them that cabs would be the future of the city as they rounded the corner to Eighth Avenue.

They walked up the stone steps to the lobby doors and all marveled at the stained glass. "Rosalie's idea," Carlisle told them. "She and Esme spent some of the extra money on cosmetic touches."

"They're exquisite," Bella commented. "Are there more inside?"

Carlisle just smiled and handed Bella the key. It was a set of four keys actually, all of them heavy and iron black. Bella walked over to Jacob and put the keys into his hands.

"I want you to go first," she said with a sniff.

Jacob unlocked and entered the dark lobby first only to discover blood all over the floor.

Rosalie shrieked in terror.

Randall had been slaughtered, his body lying in the middle of the polished marble floor.

* * *

**Notes:**

**Happy New Year to you all and thank you for continuing this adventure with Jennifer and I.**

**A very special thank you to Adamanta Banks, who has agreed to pre-read this story. I'm very exited to have her as a part of the team!**

**Thank you to Raum, who provided assistance with Italian translations. **

**My plan is to post a new chapter every Saturday for the next thirty weeks barring any unforeseen complications.**

**If you haven't seen it already, I have my own website and it is full of surprises and pictures that you may enjoy. The link is on my profile page.**

**I would like to recommend two stories that have me in their grip. The first is Release by Writing Babe. Only six chapters in at this point and all of them excellent. The other is The Singer And The Sorrow by MG2112. It is an AU Vampward story, twenty-one chapters so far, and full of fabulous tension. Both are posted on FF. **

**MOG **


	2. Chapter 2: Theatre of the Heart

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer gets all the credit for Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear gets all the leftover prime rib.**

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* * *

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**Chapter Two:**

**Theatre of the Heart**

"This was a warning," Riley's voice echoed within the stone chamber.

Everyone turned around to face him except for Edward, who had already heard him coming and was looking down in his direction.

He stood on the sidewalk in front of the theatre steps with his hands clenched together in front of him. "Humans can be squashed like insects and you seem to keep company with a lot of humans."

Rosalie, Carlisle and Esme were stammering, caught between their former captor and a blood soaked corpse. Edward was still struggling with the oppressive weight of thousands of unfiltered thoughts, but he heard the panic erupt from his mother and sister. He was also touching his father and he felt the ice cold fear rush through the man like an avalanche.

Edward was upon Riley before even Jacob or Jasper could catch him.

He could not believe the arrogance of the man, to kill a human friend of theirs and then threaten his family on their own property. Edward removed his silk scarf as he sailed down the steps in a blur and, with help of the weights sewn into the ends, he swiftly wrapped it twice around Riley's throat. Then he pulled the startled captive up to the doors.

Edward was not as strong as the older vampire but his speed gave him tremendous power. He slammed Riley into the corner and turned the scarf over to Jacob, who slowly spread his arms until they all heard the vampire's neck creak.

Riley was smiling, laughing actually. "Kill me," he croaked. "You will all be dead by morning."

"I doubt that," Jacob declared. He pulled harder, cutting off Riley's ability to say more.

Edward listened to Riley's thoughts. He honestly did not want to die and was shocked by Edward's speed. Riley knew that he was in over his head but had no doubt that every one of them would be slain if he was killed.

"I have warning of my own." Edward was barely able to keep his voice under control. "What I did to you I could have done to Michael and HALF of his men." Edward took a moment to confirm that Riley accepted his boast for the truth before touching him on the forehead like a priest giving absolution. "If you harm another one of my friends I will kill you all." He spoke the last words like they were describing heaven itself.

Jacob then pulled Riley to his chest so that he could look straight down into the thin man's face. "And we might just show up during the day." Jacob ruthlessly threw Riley down the stairs ensuring that he bounced off a wall or two. Riley landed badly on his shoulder and lurched away with a seething backward glance.

Edward lowered his head. He felt confident that Riley had been run off for the night, but the man was not finished with them yet. Nor was his master.

Bella placed a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Edward nodded his head. "I will be." He turned to Jasper as he touched Jacob on the arm. "Can you two go in and clean up? I can smell the blood through the door..."

"So can I," Alice confirmed. "And I don't think he was killed very long ago. Maybe on their way down to collect us from the docks?"

Jasper agreed with a nod. "But that means they did this before they even spoke to us."

"Before they spoke to you," Carlisle reminded him. "We were there long enough to see what they think of humans, or as they call us, subhumans."

"What does that mean?" Bella asked.

"Michael is convinced that he and all vampires have evolved," Carlisle explained. "He views humans as a food source, nothing more."

"The only reason he kept us alive is because we are family to you," Rosalie stated before she joined Jacob at the door, determined to help with Randall. Carlisle and Jasper followed her in and, as the door opened, Alice nudged Emmett. "Hold your breath."

Emmett, like Edward, was still in the habit of breathing. It was necessary if one wanted to speak but, at rest, only Bella was unnaturally still. Even Alice, who was almost ten years into her 'night life', had been instinctively gasping for air on the altar of the Notre Dame cathedral a year before. The memory swam into her head and forced her to smile. She could still feel the cold stone underneath her back while she looked up into Jasper's kind eyes.

All three of them held their breath while Esme and Bella looked on. The other four slipped into the lobby as quickly as possible. Jacob gave Edward a wink and put his finger to his temple as he disappeared. The riot of voices in his head was caged but not tamed so Edward barely heard his friend's parting thought.

_It won't take long but I think the marble might stain. Why don't you take a walk around the block._

"Why don't we all take a walk?" Edward suggested to the rest. He expected his mother to decline, given the circumstances, but Esme lit up and grabbed his hand, hustling them down the stairs. She knew the area quite well, although she had not been out that late at night before. She took them on a walk that went three blocks down Eighth Avenue and another three blocks east on 31st, all the way back to Broadway.

Bella fell in love with the city on that walk and Esme could read the enthusiasm in her face. Edward likewise was enraptured by what felt like a raw human energy. It was exquisite but it exposed them all to sights and sounds that made the situation difficult to cope with.

Edward was hungry.

Alice was hungry.

Bella was hungry.

Emmett was starving. He had less discomfort than the others given his vampire youth, but his craving was animal and threatening to take him over.

* * *

Carlisle and Rosalie were shaken by Randall's death. They grieved, but not as long as the man deserved and they both knew it. He was a trusted partner in the building of the theatre and had become a deeply loved friend. Randall's loss meant a completely different picture for them all in New York. It was unfair. It was so very unfair.

To distract themselves, Rosalie eventually pointed out the slender chandeliers and Carlisle directed Jacob's attention to the Otis Brothers electric elevator that sat just to the left of the front doors.

"Randall told me that the elevator would change the skyscape of the City," Carlisle said. "The empty lot across from Trinity Church just sold to Manhattan Life Insurance Company, and Randall heard that a fellow named Charles Sooysmith planned a building over three hundred feet tall."

Jasper took the dead man to the incinerator and brought up plenty of hay from the stable to spread on the lobby floor. They worked mostly in silence but Jacob would let out a low whistle every time he noticed something new.

Jacob, Jasper and Carlisle had plenty of experience with such unpleasantness, but Jacob could tell that Rosalie was having difficulty with the task. He worked by her side and asked her many questions about the theatre. Carlisle knew what he was doing, so did Jasper.

Rosalie knew it as well, and she loved him for it.

"Did you have enough stone support for the extra weight of the windows?"

"Actually," she peered up at the simple square panes that made up two of the lobby walls, "they're so thick that I think they actually strengthened the building." She stooped to soak up a puddle of thick blood and sobbed.

Her father looked up instinctivly but Jacob was on his knees already pulling her face up gently with large hands. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do." She was still stunned by the loss of Randall, but it was the memory of cleaning up her brother's blood that kept her breaths shallow and her heart racing. The memory of helping her mother soak up the horrific amount of Edward's bright red blood had claws. Despite Edward's obvious recovery, the image was hard to shake once it hunkered down.

arlisle was on his knees a few yards away, sopping up his friend's essence. "Randall agreed about the windows, said this building could withstand a world war." He looked at his daughter with pride then shifted his gaze to Jacob and continued. "Son, you two would have been close friends in no time at all."

Rosalie laughed but it was not a pleasant sound. "That's just what they got isn't it? No time at all."

"Did he have family?" Jacob asked.

"Not here," Carlisle answered.

"That's good," Jacob replied. "I don't want to meet the police yet."

Carlisle and Rosalie looked at one another. It was a look shared between two people who had bad news to impart.

"You already have," Rosalie informed him.

* * *

Esme had taken Bella, Edward, Emmett and Alice all the way to the Reservoir on 42nd Street before turning back for the theatre. Edward heard countless acts of kindness and cruelty in the minds of those around him but withstood the urge to shut them all out.

Not with Bella's unscrupulous creator and his gang of spiffy immortals on the same island.

Emmett could smell blood. It was inevitable in a city that size. He knew that they still had at least a day's worth of crimson nourishment stored in the carriage with their bags but it did not stop him from grinding his teeth. Edward soothed him and Emmett assured him that all would be well. Edward and Bella both heard the booming voice in Emmett's head consider investigating that delicious coppery smell. The voice suggested that it might help ease some poor soul into the afterlife.

Bella had made several hypnotic suggestions to Emmett over his first few days as a vampire but none held more power than the directive to strictly follow any order given by her. She fell back to him as they passed a bakery and told him that she wanted to get to the theatre as soon as they could. Emmett set his face and quickened his pace and the two of them marched down the sidewalk like they were in a parade on fire.

When they reached 34th and Eighth Avenue, the group went around to the stable entrance and found that the incinerator had been lit. Seven stories above them, a thin black line of smoke joined a thousand others. The sky above the city looked like it was filled with black party streamers.

One by one, they discretely stepped behind the the carriage and drank from the pouches of blood. Esme stood with her back to the group and nuzzled the black horses stretching their necks to see the party.

Bella first entered her theatre through the storage room off of the stable. Esme squawked, knowing that Carlisle and Rosalie wanted her to go through the lobby but Bella's patient smile told her that it was past time for her to see her own building.

The area below the stage was vast and she could see the curve of the auditorium seats above it. As Bella first walked through, it was as clean and swept as a Baron's kitchen but she hoped one day to see it choked with well used set pieces and props.

There were no stairs in that room so Bella went back into the stable and looked for some. That was when she noticed the framework next to the door. She did not know what it was until Esme shuffled forward and pushed a round silver plate high up on the wall.

Immediately, a metallic grumbling accompanied a pleasant looking vertical carriage that descended to a quivering stop in front of them.

Esme stepped inside. Bella and Edward followed her in but Emmett and Alice stood still.

"Aren't you coming?" Bella was obviously as excited as a kid on a carousel.

"I don't think it will hold me." The stocky boy smiled.

"Don't be silly," Esme laughed. "This lift has been tested with five hundred pounds. I saw it myself." She turned to Bella. "Carlisle insisted on a demonstration."

"No, thank you," Alice declined politely and was already walking towards the curved stone steps a few feet away. "We'll meet you in the lobby."

Esme smiled as she pressed the top of six buttons stacked up on the right side of the car. "We're not going to the lobby," she said as the empty room began to fall away.

Jacob and Jasper both looked up from their work in the lobby when the elevator was first called down. They both knew it was the others but Rosalie jumped.

"It's just Bella," Jacob told her. He did not blame her for being paranoid but it pained him to see it.

The elevator rose up the front of the lobby like a serpent's head and Esme called to the group below. "I'm showing them the living quarters and the garden."

Carlisle and Rosalie looked at one another and made for the stairs on the back wall. They did not want to miss the reaction.

Bella could not have chosen a better way to see her lobby for the first time. She slowly rose up the wall just to the left of the main lobby doors and, as she passed the first balcony level, she could see that the floor was polished light gray marble. Even with the errant strands of hay lying about, it seemed deliciously modern.

Two promenades circled the room, one above the other, and they allowed patrons an opportunity to look out the windows on the south side of the grand lobby and access to the balconies and boxes on the north wall. Two grand staircases swept up the back wall like waves.

The elevator brought them level with the chandeliers and Bella's last view of the lobby was that of the second tier, the box level. She was thrilled with the carpeting and drapery chosen by Esme and Rosalie. They perfectly complimented Jacob's design, which was both elegant and practical.

The elevator stopped on the level above the lobby and observing what was between the floors was fascinating for both Bella and Edward. It reminded Edward of his mother's lasagna.

Carlisle and Rosalie met Emmett and Alice on the stairs. The two excited humans scrambled up while the unusually cautious vampire duo walked in to greet Jasper and Jacob, who were surveying the almost imperceptible light pink discoloration in the middle of the floor.

"I bet humans won't even see that," Emmett offered.

"Humans don't live here," Jacob replied somberly.

Jacob believed that Riley purposefully murdered Randall in the lobby because he knew that the human's blood would forever leave a trace. He was certain Riley was pleased with himself for having left such a sinister and subtle housewarming gift.

He and the others had done all they could, so he took the broom and the last of its trappings down to the stable and asked the others to join him. "I'm going up through the tower and Emmett especially will want to see the first two floors."

Jacob took the opportunity to close and lock the gate to the stable before he led everyone through the door on the rounded wall leading into the base of the tower. All seven stories were originally planned to become Jacob's residence but, when Emmett entered the group, Jacob wanted him to have a home of his own in New York. As a result, he gifted the new vampire the bottom two floors.

The first level was designed to be a workshop for Jacob. The second floor, with a door to the lobby, had a private lounge with a panoramic view of Eighth Avenue from ten feet up. Jacob reassured Emmett that they would redesign but Emmett shook his head slowly. "I just don't know if I can take this away from you."

Jacob laughed. "It's not your choice and, besides, you won't have to worry about it for a while. You can have my bed when we leave for Paris tomorrow."

Jacob then asked Jasper or Alice to go out and lock the front doors before they continued up. Alice leapt over to him and passed through the ornate wooden double doors that opened to the lobby. She turned to her right where the four goliath masterpieces stood but only one of them had needed to be re-tumbled.

The spiral staircase running up the tower was carved right into the stone and was enclosed except for oval openings at each level. The windows along the way provided them with an ever changing perspective of the city. At that hour, lighted windows reflected each other like mirrors.

Level three was a study. It held bookshelves lining the rounded walls and a big oak desk already crowded with city maps and building plans that Carlisle had evidently left behind. Jacob was not expecting the private library and suddenly missed Rosalie. He did not stay to read the titles of dozens of books obviously purchased for him by the Cullens. Jacob suspected that he was going to be the envy of his oldest friend in the world, who just so happened to have a passion for books.

The room above the study held a magnificent white marble bathtub with emerald streaks and a sturdy looking gold faucet watching over it. The room had a walled off section for a commode but was otherwise as open as the others. The windows that surrounded it were each filled with the curious faces of three vampires as Alice, Jasper and Emmett looked out across the city, which was revealing itself more and more with every level.

They were on the fourth floor of the tower, strictly speaking, but they were level with the top tier of the lobby where the uppermost balcony and boxes led to the auditorium. The elevator considered that to be the third floor because the stable was the basement.

Jasper was the first up to the next floor and his eyes widened. "This is beautiful."

Jacob and Alice were right behind him while Emmett lingered. He was sizing up the massive bathtub and imaging Rosalie lying inside with her hair ribbon as her only accessory.

Jacob's bedroom was stunning. It had an eighteen foot tall ceiling and two rows of windows wrapped almost all the way around it. There was a door leading out to a common room, a bed made from the same California redwood as the stage, a matching wardrobe and a love-seat. The room was simple but grand.

There was one more unseen floor but it would have to wait. There was a knock at the door followed by Bella's entrance.

"Oh good! Alice you're here. I..." Bella looked around the kingly room. "Oh my, this is nice too."

"I love it," Jacob responded, looking over Bella's head. Rosalie was following her brother into the room. She looked devastatingly beautiful to Jacob, who would have loved to have been crass enough to send everyone from the room so he could take her on the bed and ravage her like a hurricane.

"That armoire is gorgeous," Edward observed.

"You should see the bathroom," Emmett replied quietly.

Everyone else had entered the room and Jacob was pleased that it did not feel cramped. The chamber was thirty feet across and afforded them plenty of space to move around, even with a Jacob sized bed among them.

Bella was on a mission, however. She glided over to Alice and grabbed her by the hand. "You have to come with me."

They all followed the two women from the tower to a quaint anteroom that, oddly, had a door on each corner. All of the doors matched the furniture, including the elevator door built into the east wall.

"Looks like you had some extra redwood," Jasper remarked.

Carlisle laughed. "Yes, well I may have overbought a bit but..." He paused, struggling with his emotions. "Randall had the idea to furnish your rooms with the extra timber."

"Our bedroom furniture is exactly the same," Edward told Jacob, gesturing to the open door of his suite. Jacob looked to his right into the marvelous room. He then looked over to see the quartet of women buzzing around Alice and Jasper's south wing. The two huge rooms looked amazing.

Emmett and Jasper walked into his suite while Jacob stood in the 'corner room' and breathed in through his nose. His eyes became glassy as he looked at Carlisle with gratitude and pride. Edward accurately sensed a moment building between architect and designer so he left the two men alone and rejoined the group.

Both wings sat atop the theatre in an 'L' along the south and east walls and were well over twenty eight feet tall. They had peaked roofs that ran their considerable length making the inside look a bit like a church. They were identical, except for cosmetic differences in the washrooms. There was a large sitting area near the front door along with a loft that hooded half the room, creating a second level that was primarily hidden from view. There was a solid looking redwood staircase on the wall opposite of the windows that looked down onto 34th Street. It had a very shallow slant that began near the front door and looked artistic against the snow-cloud gray stones that made up the theatre walls. Shelves were cut into the wood and looked like they could hold a school's worth of books.

The colossal bed that sat like a castle up in the loft was also redwood and had many accents and compartments, as well a hidden shaft that led straight down to the stable.

Edward could hear that everyone was still quite unnerved by the evening's events. He was particularly concerned about his mother, who was actually hovering between paranoia and denial. They all wanted to enjoy the momentous occasion but each would lapse into bouts of conjecture that had him living the group's worst fears, one on top of the other.

He listened for Bella, who had been silent for a while. She was close to him, eagerly nodding at Rosalie who was sharing some additional ideas for both wings. When Edward paused to study her thoughts, he discovered she was something he did not expect to find.

Terrified.

The washroom was under the loft and took up the whole back wall. Bella went in and Edward quietly followed her. She walked over to Alice's deep rectangular bathtub and sat on the edge. The smooth stone was a soft purple, the color of false dawn with specks and slashes of white in it. Bella looked up at the concerned man entering the room.

"We could be in real trouble, Edward."

"What do you mean?" He sat next to her and took her hand. He brought it to his lips and tenderly kissed it. Like theirs, the tub had a generous lip and made a nice bench so he scooted in close and nuzzled her hand against his cheek.

"Rosalie told me that Michael had vampires on the police force."

"I know. I heard my father thinking about it."

She gently took her hand back and turned to him. "He could make our lives here miserable."

"He won't."

Bella smiled at Edward's brilliance. He did not miss a thing.

"Because he needs me," she whispered, touching his face.

"Exactly."

She knew he was uncomfortable with the idea of her spending any more time with Michael.

"What should I do?"

Edward stood up. "You should finish your tour. We haven't even seen the auditorium."

With effort, Bella smiled. She was just as determined as the others to make the most of the evening, but it felt like Michael was casting a long shadow and that they were in it.

* * *

Jasper had been up in his loft and discovered the direct route to the stable. It was a fifty foot drop through an opening so narrow that his arms would have to be pressed to his sides or raised over his head. He decided to try it. Jacob had discussed its design to the group on the ship ride from Europe so he knew where he would land, right in the middle of the stable.

The fall did not faze him, in fact he thought it was quite fun. He took the opportunity to grab a pouch of blood and drank the refreshing contents, leaving just one more. The shaft he dropped down was impossible to ascend. This pleased Jasper from a security standpoint and he called for the elevator with a childlike grin on his face. He wanted to try it again.

When the elevator reached him, Jacob was waiting inside.

"We need to talk." Jacob's words were out before the machine stopped moving.

"Didn't Edward tell you it was just me?" Jasper asked, irritated with the harsh tone he received.

Jacob looked confused before his face softened into surprised laughter. He opened the gate and stepped out. "Yes, he did actually. Useful kid. I want to talk about Michael. We need to take him down."

"I know. But will Bella agree to it?"

Jacob scowled. "I don't know yet. She has always spoken highly of him but I wasn't surprised that she hit him either. She has a temper."

Jasper briefly howled at the memory. Then his face darkened. "It was foolish of her. And I'm sorry about Alice. She knows it was tragic and fool hearty."

Jacob waved the statement off. "Both ladies in our troupe have short fuses. We will just have to find a way to work with them. But, in order to defeat Michael, we will need an army to match his."

"What? Where are we going to get an army in a new country?"

"New to the rest of us." Jacob stepped in close to him and delivered his plea with intense eyes. "But you were born here. You were turned here. You set your friends free here only a century ago. Can you not imagine that you would be able to convince them to rise against a cruel master like you did once before?"

Jasper considered the question, but not for long. "Not really."

Jacob was almost comically deflated. He then took a deep breath and tried again. "We could come up with a brilliant and savage plan. I can go out during the day, we can use that advantage. There is also Edward's ability to hear their tactics ahead of time and I can take on four vampires at once in wolf form..."

"Really?" Jasper had never seen Jacob fight that way. "Why didn't you use that when we eliminated those Paris scoundrels?"

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't need to. We were doing fine. Is that a yes?"

"We don't know anything yet." Jasper shook his head slowly. "Not about how things are here or how they are down south, which is where I'd have to go IF I could find anyone who would help us."

"Will you think about it?"

"Yes," Jasper promised. "We will see how the next few encounters go and discuss it again."

"I won't be here," Jacob explained. "I'm taking the Cullens back to Paris as soon as I can. Tonight, if the Captain will have us."

"That ship still has a day or two at dock. Let's discuss it with the others."

As their elevator rose through the lobby, they saw everyone else working their way down the stairs in small lazy groupings.

Bella and Edward were first, hand in hand, and were almost to the lobby floor. Jacob tried to stop the elevator on that level but they had already rumbled past the threshold so Alice waved at them from across the first promenade. Emmett was with her and laughed good-naturedly. The sound danced across the open room and startled Esme, who was walking with Carlisle and Rosalie several steps back.

Jacob scowled. "The three of them should not be in the rear," he informed Jasper as the elevator reached the first level. "Not even in our own home."

Edward and Bella had walked across the lobby floor and were waiting when the elevator landed. She heard his complaint and wanted to address it.

"Don't you think that's a bit extreme? After all we are in our own home." She did not intend to sound harsh, but she did.

"They are still scared. Why don't you just ask Edward?" Jacob responded. He did not intend to sound hostile, but he did.

Bella turned to Edward, who lowered his head. "We're all scared." He did not intend to sound hurt.

But he did.

Carlisle wanted to turn on the auditorium lights so he navigated the dark chamber with Jasper at his side. Carlisle knew the room well and walked with confidence through the gloom. To Jasper's sublime eyes the hall may as well have been lit with a thousand candles.

The house lights were stage left and Carlisle walked up a ramp that acted as one of two bridges over the orchestra pit. The elegant walkways crossed the open space at angles from the aisles and met center stage at the thrust.

When Carlisle disappeared around the corner he was gone for only a moment before the eleven chandeliers thirty feet above disturbed the spiders.

"Now that's a lot of redwood!" Emmett exclaimed as he bounded into the room, followed by Bella. She took in the sight with a small white hand over her mouth.

The curtain was open and the stage was indeed an impressive redwood monument, but the balcony supports and the arm rests were also made from the expensive California treasure. Bella looked down at the redwood flooring as she led the rest of the group up and over the pit on the same redwood ramp that Carlisle and Jasper had used.

"I really did overbuy. It was my one big blunder." Carlisle laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I accidentally doubled the stage dimensions but between Esme...and Randall, they used every last splinter of it."

The curtain was a rich emerald green that matched the seats and balcony drapes. Gold accents in both paint and fabric dressed the already decadent room. As they were all gathered onstage, Rosalie first looked at her father and smiled. She then spoke with her eyes moving between Bella and Jacob.

"When we got here, we didn't know a thing about building a theatre. But as you can see, with the right help," she paused first to swallow, "and plenty of money," she paused again to smirk, "we got it done."

"It's perfect," Bella spoke softly. She loved the forest smell in the room and could see to her left and right that the stage wings had three curtain legs each and about fifteen feet of room to work with.

"We managed nine hundred seats and twelve boxes," Carlisle said. "Six hundred on the floor, another three hundred in the balcony and the boxes hold ten seats each."

The group let silence reclaim the magnificent room for a while.

"You should see the green room," Esme suggested then began strolling across the boards towards a door located on stage left.

Bella instantly thought back to the December of 1678 when she had first heard the term for the area backstage. Jacob had already lost Leah but would not leave his Spanish home. Bella, already used to being on her own, spent the late sixteen hundreds sampling London and her residents. On that snow flaked December evening, Bella went to the Dorset Garden Theatre to see an unknown play by Thomas Shadwell called _The True Widow_. In it, the actor's area backstage was referred to as the green room, which just happened to be the color of the lounge in the Dorset itself.

She did not know then that the name would catch on. As she strode across the stage following Esme, who was practically jogging, she was struck by how lonely she was back then.

It was in the green room that the group finally sat down and talked things through. There were several chairs and benches that sat in clusters but everyone gathered at a large redwood table with a built in lazy Susan. The room had a sink and a stove and was clearly meant to double as a kitchen and cafeteria. Jacob had anticipated hungry humans during long rehearsals and shows and rather liked the idea of cooking for them. His letters to Rosalie detailed a life production and direction for Bella, Edward and himself. Jacob's idea of producing meant feeding the actors.

He made a fine producer.

He looked at the four windows that lined the east wall of the natural stone room and saw that dawn was not even an idea in the night sky. He suspected that by the time they all got up from the table the copper flakes Rosalie had trapped in the glass would be painting freckles on his friends' faces.

Edward spoke first. "I would like to hear from everyone, but first I'm going to ask Bella to tell us about her experiences with Michael."

Bella looked at the group, everyone waited. Edward briefly listened to thousands of dream fragments and realized that things became remarkably easier for him as the thousands of people in that part of the city were captured in sleep.

"He made me everything I was as a human." Bella spoke with a despondence, like she was trying to remember a dream but was still in the dream at the time. "I was a singer but he turned me into a thinker. I went to the Elsebridge Abbey believing that it was a curse but, by the time I was fourteen, I considered myself as lucky as any woman could be in England."

She took a deep breath. Her eyes seemed to clear as she recalled the beginning of her second life. "He turned me fast, during an outbreak of the plague. I watched as he barred the only door in the library and then he turned to me with the saddest look I had ever seen...until tonight."

"You're not thinking about helping him are you?" Alice wrinkled up her nose like she smelled something disgusting.

Edward answered for Bella. "We aren't making any final decisions tonight." He looked suddenly over at Jacob as if his name were spoken. "I stand corrected. We will have to decide one thing very soon but we'll get to that when Bella and my family have a chance to tell us more about who we're dealing with."

Alice nodded, as did Jacob. The statement confused Emmett as Bella continued. "We waited for the plague victims to die but it was too much for Michael. Almost a month without blood." She shuddered and was suddenly very aware that Jasper was still holding a skin full of syrupy liquid. "He was my age now, give or take a few decades, and it...affected him. By the time we left the church, he wasn't making sense most of the time and he ran off a year later. That was the last time I saw him."

"Where did he go?" Emmett asked.

"I'm certain he was headed for China." Bella then remembered something extremely important. "And he could move things with his mind when I knew him, small things only but..."

"His powers may have grown," Jasper finished glumly.

Carlisle was in awe. "That's called telekinesis and it has never been proven to exist."

"Neither have vampires," Edward added.

"That's not all." Bella looked serious. She spoke like she was telling a ghost story. "Once, in 1540, I saw him shimmer and disappear right before my eyes."

The room hushed and Bella saw eight pairs of eyes widen. Even Jacob had never heard that before. It was not good news to hear that their potential adversary could vanish like a genie.

Edward was sitting between Bella and Carlisle and placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "Well," he said cheerily, "what can you add to that?"

Esme spoke first. "He's mad."

Rosalie laughed nervously. "That's an understatement."

They were all quiet for a moment. Edward turned to Carlisle. "Father?"

"He's more than mad. He's evil." The words came out in a rush like a confession. "He strolls around town just after sunset and whispers things to people. Some of them dance around for his amusement while others show up at his house to be...claimed."

"He called it humane." Esme closed her eyes as she spoke.

"What about the police?" Jasper asked.

Carlisle breathed out through his nose. "He has about sixty men total."

Jasper and Jacob looked at each other. Edward heard their minds reel at the figure. Jacob was also willing Jasper to reconsider going south to seek help.

"It's true," Carlisle continued, "about half of his gang have landed jobs on the police force but only as night watchmen because of obvious reasons. You can't rise very high in law enforcement if you don't show up for work until the sun goes down."

Bella pursed her lips. "What does he want? Why infiltrate the police?"

"Money," Carlisle declared as if it was the only answer. "The whole city is crooked. We found that out early but wealth gets you far, especially with the wealthy."

"I bet it has many other advantages as well," Jasper added.

"Do people know Michael?" Edward asked. "Does he have a reputation?"

Rosalie shook her head. "The city is huge, Edward. Even Michael is just another face in the crowd."

"Even if he had a hundred men in the police force it would only be a small fraction of the thousands of blue coats on the island," Carlisle elaborated.

"But it's enough," Jasper said flatly.

"Alright," Edward agreed, putting his hand to his chin and turning to his family. "Jacob wants to take the three of you back to Paris immediately. His desire is to keep you there until we have a handle on things here. I have to say that I agree with him, as does Bella."

"Fine." Rosalie was relieved.

Esme nodded but did not speak.

"When do we leave?" Carlisle's delivery was dry.

Alice laughed in response.

It was no more than a giggle really.

A chortle, if you will.

But it was enough to make Jasper's cheek twitch.

The sight of his serious minded smirk had Bella breathing quickly in and out of her nose, her laughter was rising like a bubble through champagne.

While her face reddened and her eyes twinkled, Edward felt his mouth involuntarily open in a wide grin.

"Ha!" Emmett laughed loudly.

The dam broke. The laughter could have peeled the paint off the walls with its ferocity. The eruption of sound and emotion made Edward dizzy.

It happened gradually but, within a few moments, the joviality transformed to tears of relief and frustration as the weight if their new reality hit them like the roof caving in. They collectively stood and gathered in a cluster of hugs as sentiments were exchanged and promises made.

The green room became a special place for them after that.

They decided to resettle on the unexplored garden, so they walked back through the lobby and split up again. Jacob took Edward and Bella through the tower while the rest of them made their way to the residence level.

On the roof of the lobby, sitting between the two tall wings sat a square garden. At almost eighty feet squared, it was more like a baseball field that had grown into a wild forest. There were no nearby buildings tall enough to look onto the little green oasis and, as they made their way deeper into the wooded space, they felt completely isolated.

"They're uprooting trees by the hundreds north of town," Carlisle told them. "I had to reinforce the lobby roof to take the weight of the trees and the soil." He turned to Jacob and spoke from the corner of his mouth. "I had to extend the subfloor of the residence levels to accomodate for the roots but now there is almost enough room to walk under the wings."

"It's spectacular." Bella felt breathless. "And it's so…private." She noticed that the garden entrance had a light lock entryway just like the auditorium. Downstairs it would allow people to enter a performance without disturbing those around them but up there it would allow people to come and go from the garden without exposing any vampires to the deadly sun.

"It can be," Esme spoke. "But if you'll work your way to the center you'll find a nice setting for small gatherings."

Bella was intrigued and ended up in a short footrace with an equally curious Alice. Both women gasped at the wide and low but detailed and imaginative gazebo.

It was made of redwood, of course, and there was a bench ringing the inner lattice work. A small gap leading onto the platform was facing the tower and, when Bella climbed the two steps up, she turned to see it poking out from above the treetops.

Everyone took a seat on the bench and listened as Emmett told Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie what had happened to him. He spoke of his last moments bleeding to death on the Pont Neuf and the memory bit him like a snake. Edward could hear his mind but, because Emmett thought in two voices, one of which he believed to be God, Edward had never shared that fact with him. Bella, who could hear only the booming voice of God in Emmett's head, listened with Edward as it soothed the emotional young man.

"I could hear Jasper running towards me and then, the next thing I knew, I was in the cathedral and I think he was praying over me."

**And I heard that prayer, my son.**

"I thought I was going insane, especially when I found out that my good friend was already a vampire and...wait a minute..." Emmett looked across the gazebo's interior at Rosalie, who was almost in Jacob's lap. "Did you know your brother was a vampire when you heard me talking about killing them?"

Rosalie nodded her head.

"I'm sorry." Emmett had a way of apologizing that made him easy to forgive.

"No one blames you for what you thought back then, Emmett." Rosalie reassured him. "What matters is what you believe now."

"I am here only to help my friends..."

**And to serve the Lord.**

"And to serve the Lord."

Edward changed the subject. "I believe that Jacob may have something else to discuss."

Jacob would have waited to bring up the topic but, since he was leaving soon, he took the opportunity to pitch his idea to the whole group. "I have asked Jasper to consider going south to seek help."

"Seek help with what?" Bella was horrified as the only answer sprang to her mind. "Jacob! You can't think that we should...that we even could!"

"It doesn't matter," Jasper spoke with a tone of finality. "I told him no."

"He told me he'd think about it," Jacob corrected with a winning smile.

"You don't actually think it will come to that do you?" Bella asked.

Edward surprised her by answering softly. "You think it won't?"

"I don't know what will happen, but I'm not deciding his fate after only five minutes."

Esme cleared her throat. "It was a lot longer than five minutes for us."

They listened to the city's silence as Carlisle placed his hand on his wife's leg. "Riley implied that keeping us alive was a privilege that caused them all a certain amount of discomfort." He turned to Edward. "How lucky were we?"

"He was telling the truth. As we get older we require more blood but have better control of ourselves. For instance, if one of you cut your finger, it would be harder for Emmett and myself to stay away even though Bella and Jasper would desire it more."

"It's a matter of tolerance, just like with narcotics," Jasper supplied.

Edward observed curiosity turn to mild concern as first Esme then Rosalie began counting vampires. "But I have found that emotional attachment can supersede it," he added. "None of us are capable of harming you."

"None of you are likely to harm us," Rosalie corrected.

Bella stood up. "I know how hard this will be for some of you but I would like to meet with Michael and attempt to make peace for all our sakes. I may be able to help with his translation and that will buy us some good will." She took a breath and continued. "Having said that...Jasper, do you think going to your old friends for help is hopeless?"

Jasper sifted the question for a moment. "Not hopeless, just uncertain."

"What are your concerns?" Bella looked like she was about to negotiate and everyone but Jasper saw it. Even though Edward was too stunned to speak she had sent a mental message, instructing him to let her have the floor. He obeyed.

"First of all, I don't know if any of them will remember me."

"Hogwash. You're adorable." Alice giggled loudly at Bella's frank assessment. As did Emmett and Jacob, who was happy to hear someone else argue his case.

Jasper stood up. He would play the game but had already begun thinking about whether or not Alice would want to come with him. "They might not want to fight a six hundred year old vampire and his friends."

"You killed their captor and set them free," Bella spoke plainly. "Did not one of them thank you before you left?"

"Well, I took off pretty fast but I guess but I ran into a few from time to time and..." He trailed off.

"And?" Bella kept a straight face but Edward knew she was enjoying herself. Jacob knew it as well and Alice actually had a good idea that her friend was just getting warmed up. It was something in the way she had her arms crossed, as if she had already thought of his answers for him.

"They seemed appreciative." Jasper smiled. "Do you really want me to go?"

"No," Bella said sweetly, musically. "I want you to continue telling me why you can't."

It was a fantastic answer but Jasper countered fast. "How are we going to travel? I will not spend my days hiding in potato cellars and ill constructed haylofts."

"You'll take Jacob's carriage." Her eyes were bright. "They won't need it in Paris. You can sleep in that." She looked over at Jacob for approval, which he gave with a wide grin and the vigorous bobbing of his head up and down.

Jasper was a keen debater. He took her solution and poked holes in it. "So now we have to hide a whole carriage every day? Or do you intend for us to just park along the side of the road and hope no one decides to hook up and drive us fifty miles out of our way while we sit helpless inside?"

She faltered, but only for a moment. "You...you'll be able to stable the horses at a livery and they will watch over the carriage as well as the horses. And don't forget that it can be secured from the inside."

"Yes, but if we are traveling all night when not looking for a stable when are we to recruit for our private war?" Jasper exploited her faulty argument and opened the holes wider. "Besides, now people can see us sitting inside there. What are we supposed to do? Wave at them and remind them not to forget to check the horseshoes?"

Bella blinked at him. This was a legitimate problem to solve and she was out of ideas.

"What if you could travel while you slept?" Carlisle's voice was pointed to the hands now folded in his lap but everyone heard him.

"What do you mean?" Jasper asked him.

Carlisle shrugged his shoulders. "I could drive you." Carlisle looked at Esme. "Jacob can get you two safely to Paris and back. I have to help them."

Esme squeezed his arm. She was not going to like being away from him but relished the idea of her husband playing a part in taking Michael down. Edward was shocked at his mother's savagery as her thoughts swam into his head.

Jasper was suddenly animated. "This changes everything. We can use our nights to track down some friends. We will make better time running the horses when it's light, we..."

"We?" Alice asked. "Are you anticipating my company on this recruiting mission of yours?"

Jasper looked at her knowingly. He was certain that she was trying not to beam. "Well, would you like to go?"

"Just to summarize," Bella said, "First, I am going to attempt reconciliation with Michael with the understanding that the Cullens are to be given permanent protection from harm and, only failing that, will we proceed with an attempt to overthrow."

Jacob stood and stretched. He was able to put his palms flat on the auburn ceiling of the gazebo. "I will book passage with Captain Caussin later today and we will leave when he does."

Bella walked over to Esme and Carlisle. "You two can sleep in our bed tonight."

Esme smiled at the thoughtful gesture but shook her head as Carlisle politely turned her down. Jacob then offered to take them back to their apartment in the uptown Stuyvesant building which had, unbeknownst to them, been purchased outright.

"We'll just sleep in the dormitory."

"The what?" Jacob and Bella practically harmonized.

"Why did you think the green room was so big?" Carlisle asked.

"It didn't look that big to me," Bella recalled.

"Now that you mention it, I bet it seats about thirty people," Edward observed.

"Fifty plus," Carlisle corrected proudly. "Come along. We'll show you and then we can all get some rest."

They all traipsed downstairs and, as they entered the green room, Carlisle led them to a hall that wrapped around the back of the stage and around to the other side. There were men's and women's dressing rooms, complete with bathrooms and showers, a costume shop that desperately needed Alice's personal touch and eight small rooms with four beds apiece.

"The stage was deep as you know," Carlisle reminded Jacob. "Remember when I asked if I could shorten it by sixteen feet?"

Realization dawned on Jacob's eyes as Emmett stepped forward. "Why did you build this?"

Esme answered. "We figured that Bella could make a quick splash by hiring established theatre troupes from Boston or Chicago.

You could house an army down here."

Edward felt an odd sensation as nearly everyone wondered at the same time if Esme's observation was an omen.

* * *

**Notes:**

**This week I want to thank you personally!**

**I wasn't sure how many people would be interested in waiting three months for Brutte Parole to begin posting, but the response has been overwhelming and exceeded my expectations. It's good to be taking this journey again. I enjoy hearing from each of you and hope to get to know even more of you this time around.**

**Bella Voce has been nominated for a Cosplay Queen Award (for Best Period Piece) in the upcoming 'Walk of Fame' Awards. Thank you to the person who nominated the story. I don't think voting has opened yet but, in the meantime, you can look through all the categories and select your favorites:**

**twinklingswfa(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**I was interviewed this week by HammerHips for the wordybitches(dot)com website. The interview will post on Monday, January 10 and she asked me some very interesting questions. Please be sure and visit their site. They are a fun bunch over there.**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Three: The Priest.**

**MOG**


	3. Chapter 3: The Priest

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns an app that turns his iPad into the Flux Compositor from Back To The Future.**

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Chapter Three:

**The Priest**

New York City was a reflective playground for the sun. Numerous bodies of water scattered around countless windows and all of them were brightly lit on a hot June morning.

Bella and Edward shared a lover's embrace for the first time in New York well after the sun had already dazzled them through their bedroom windows. They lived in the east wing and when dawn caressed the naked couple, they took turns closing their eyes.

They had not been able to make love since they left Paris and even the stress of their evening could not abate the urgent need to press their bodies together. The two had eagerly kissed on the journey upstairs to their bed, pulling clothing off one another along the way. When Edward laid Bella down, he guided her to rest on her stomach.

He wanted to admire her body first.

Bella was in the middle of the black linen that stretched over their spacious bed. They were silk sheets and the delicious texture cradled her breasts and her feet disappeared in the thick red comforter now pooled near the edge of the mattress.

From up in the loft, Edward could look down into his new home. Irregular squares of light blanketed the floor below but a small row of single pane windows sat above the bed and were already spilling auburn flairs in every direction.

Several spears of light fell across Bella's round rear end and he could see that the copper flecks in the glass were casting galaxies on her smooth skin.

Edward carefully, deliberately kissed each twinkle. Some of the cool sparks on her lower back he kissed twice. She had her head cradled on her forearms and smiled sweetly at Edward whenever he worked his way back up to her neck, ear, cheek or whatever else he could get his lips on.

Bella shivered with delight when his whispers tickled her ear. "I need you." He spoke softly but Bella heard the longing behind his words.

Edward began kissing her again, working down her body with renewed vigor and response.

He traveled down her calves and rubbed his cheek on one while holding the other in a gentle grip. He kissed them both, moving back and forth with silent service. She felt his chest brush against her calves as he kissed further and further up the back of each leg in turn. Bella spread her thighs apart ever so slightly and found her rear rising up to meet his friction.

Edward cupped and kissed and nuzzled her round flesh until he ached but held his vigil over her bare back. He even ran his fingers through her thick hair for several minutes knowing how much she enjoyed the way it felt.

He straddled her and was brushing more than his chest against more than her calves. He could hear the city waking up but was determined to cope with the torrent of noise rather than ever be ambushed again.

He turned all his worry into passion, into lust. He may have begun gently but his increasing desire coupled with her succulent sun-splashed body drove him to a frenzy of desire. He sat up on the bed and turned her around, drawing her to him, to his very core, then placed her legs over his hips. Her chin dipped down into his lips and he kissed it softly.

He used his fingers to confirm her silky eagerness then guided his length into her. Bella's wet tongue languidly rolled across her lip and her bite punctuated his deep presence within her. Her hands anchored themselves as they grasped his hair with each thrust. She needed more, wanted more, and he enthusiastically obliged her.

Edward grabbed her hips, took a second to make sure his grip was extra tight, and began to thrust himself in and out of her while pulling her forcefully down to meet each hard push. Bella gasped in response as she threw herself forward, burying Edward's face between her eager breasts.

She had wanted Edward for days and had almost begged him to swim over to Sable Island for some alone time when the _La Touraine_ passed Nova Scotia.

Bella wanted him so badly that, even with him inside her, she yearned for more closeness. She threw her head back and Edward happily placed his mouth around the cranberry truffle perched at the tip of each creamy rise of flesh. He swirled his tongue around his prize and even flicked it playfully as he continued to use his strength to pull Bella down onto his standing ovation.

"Bella, I can't believe how lucky I am."

Bella had a reply but was unable to address him. She was absorbed in a brilliant climax that made the room first brighten then dim. She fell forward into Edward's arms, weak with bliss.

Edward collapsed next to her on the bed. He was obviously ready for more but content with letting the pressure dip as he looked into her sideways eyes. They rested their heads on new pillows and smiled at each other while lacing their fingers together.

"I'm the lucky one," Bella whispered, just before kissing his nose. "You are so good to me." She laid her head on his chest and looked down his stomach at the stunning tool that had filled her with volcanic pleasure. He was still shiny with her moisture and she enjoyed seeing his body stretched out in more than just candlelight. She stroked him with her fingertips and he sighed.

Edward enjoyed it when she started petting him, watching him. He felt completely needed and comforted in those moments but could only allow her to fawn over him for a short time before he felt selfish and turned the tables. Bella knew what he was doing but did not stop him.

_You are young, _she thought, knowing she was playing for laughs. _If you want to wear yourself out, I'll allow it._

Edward laughed and then positioned himself above Bella to show her how difficult it was to, as she put it, wear himself out. He slipped into her like a thief and began working his thick power in and out of her cozy wet nest while kissing her madly on the lips. His tongue was sometimes timid and sometimes aggressive as she ran her hands over the hard working muscles on his back.

She let her eyes follow the streaks of sun on the high peaked ceiling and wondered if she would ever get used to being in a room with windows during the day. She was tremendously happy with Edward and hearing her flattering thoughts filled him with confidence.

He, like most men, saw lovemaking first as a challenge and second, as a reward for having overcome said challenge. He would not be happy until his partner was delirious with plural release and only then would he allow himself to let go.

Bella always wanted him to let go earlier but Edward was a perfectionist. He relished in rendering her speechless while she was in the middle of telling him so.

As the streets below them filled with buggies, they made love over and over again. Edward practically devoured her and smiled as he worked her up into a simmer that lead to her bucking beneath him, pushing her hips up to meet his hungry pumping.

Bella clung to him as she arched her back. Each climax built on the last and she was positively steaming for him. Edward took short breaks to ensure Bella's utter satiation, and prolonged his endurance by using his mouth to tenderize his favorite areas.

They heard the elevated train one block over rumbling by several times before Edward finally did let go in a shuddering explosion. Bella had been sitting on top of him with her legs spread apart and her knees making small craters in the otherwise smooth sheets. She had her hands in her hair and was enjoying a strong jolt of satisfaction herself when his body trembled beneath her.

He was uncharacteristically vocal and serenaded her with sighs and whimpers that only fueled her engine. She writhed on him and drew out a delicious moan as they shared a luxurious release.

They both ended up on their backs, looking up at the peaked stone roof. Edward listened to the city scream at itself while Bella heard only the occasional fleck of street noise through the thick walls and windows.

Someone close by was playing _Fur Elise._

Edward focused on the music and fell asleep first, his brain automatically muting the offending voices of the city, forcing the chorus to play some insignificant yet ever present part in his dreams. Bella was not used to sleeping in such a bright room but, after setting a pillow over her eyes, soon joined him in the autumn worlds of slumber.

Edward dreamt of being stranded at sea.

Bella dreamt of a volcano.

* * *

Michael was born in 1169 in Catania, Sicily. His mother had almost carried him to term when Mt. Etna's eruption threw her to the ground.

His father was a successful boat builder who worked from his shoreside home and he was with his wife when the earthquake sent her into labor. Catania was shaded by a cloud of ash and debris and for the next day and a half they all fought for their lives.

Michael was pulled into a trembling world by a trembling father.

Most of Catania was destroyed. The mighty St. Agatha Cathedral, as well as the bishop, disappeared in a boiling wind that claimed more lives than not. Most people who escaped the deadly gusts were instead buried alive and were counted among the dead even before the ground stopped its subsequent hiccups.

Huge boulders sat like castle turrets all around the neighborhood where Michael was born. Some were big enough to devastate two homes at once as they landed with catastrophic sound. Others rolled and bounced for miles, ruthlessly ripping people from their shoes and grinding farmland and animals into the same gooey mess.

Michael was named after one of the seven archangels in the Bible and was seen as a miracle to his parents from that day forward. He was taught to honor the name he was given and developed a spirituality in youth that made his parents proud of his virtue.

The state of Italy was founded when Michael was a child. He even remembered hearing adults talk about Barbarossa and Alexander III. It was a time of compromise between the Pope and the Emperors.

His youth was spent watching the city he lived in being unearthed. He himself must have carried a thousand wheelbarrow loads of broken stone to what the residents called montagna di macerie by the time he was ten.

That year he remembered finding a human skull while clearing a debris pile half way to Cibali. He took it home and kept it in his sleeping blanket for several days until he broke down and took it to his father.

The two left early the next morning, headed for the cathedral of St. Agatha. Michael's father carried the skull in a grass basket that his mother had made for the occasion. Their home was on the outskirts of town and it took them two hours to make the journey down to the site where the cathedral was being rebuilt. They were met by priests they did not know well but who would, after that day, become friends and mentors to the young boy.

The priests took Michael and his father deep underground to a crypt that had survived the earthquake and was recently rediscovered. In it, they were confronted with a gaping expanse of space that was as big as any chamber ever created above ground. They could not even see to the other side and it was completely filled with bones.

The massive room had a funny smell, a kind of earthy bitterness mixed with the sweet perfume of fruit. As the priests performed last rites to the skull, Michael imagined being on a boat in a sea of bones and wondered what lands would be on the other side.

They were told that the crypt held over ten thousand skeletons in various states of completion and Michael knew that he was seeing something that would impact the rest of his life.

He was right. From that day forward, Michael had a certain perspective that made him understand that much had happened before he came to be and much would happen after he was long departed. His solace in that realization was that he was perfectly free to do as much as could to change the world while he was in it.

Even at the age of ten, Michael felt a certain peace in knowing where his own bones would be laid some day.

By the time Richard the Lionheart was crowned King of England, the Roman Catholic Church was enjoying a significant boom in Europe. Michael was twenty years old, had completed his seminary training and was looking forward to being sent West to help the flock find salvation.

He did not have to wait long. The King himself called for Italian priests to teach in England and his call was loud. Michael went first to London to meet the Cardinal and was then sent to Weymouth and Easton on the island's south shore.

Michael was a quiet but powerful preacher. He became popular due to his simple but effective sermons. He looked into the eyes and hearts of the people in his congregation and gave them guidance mixed with hope.

By the time Constantinople was sacked in 1204, it had been the wealthiest city in Christendom and the news surprised his parishioners. It was the Fourth Crusade and no one foresaw Constantinople being looted. Jerusalem was the intended target. It was rumored that Venice, already the richest city in the West, received nearly half of the wealth taken, and that the emperor received another quarter of it. People were convinced that it was a conspiracy and that the sacred Crusades were merely a disguise to make the rich richer.

Michael was in his mid-thirties and had passed up countless political positions to stay close to the ears of the common man. He had been moved up to Swindon and then over to King's Lynn where he calmed the nerves of the people just hearing about the Latin's raid on the thousand year old stronghold. His leadership kept order in his small northeastern town while other villages erupted into mortal chaos.

Michael's parishioners were confused and angry but he restored order with his words. He proved so successful that he was soon after sent on a good will mission to Cambridge, Telford, Bristol and Crawley all within a year.

He discovered he liked the travel and spent the next seventeen years going everywhere from Ireland to his home of Catania where he went to learn the _Ordo Fratrum Minorum, _a set of guidelines put forward by the most esteemed St. Francis of Assisi.

Upon his return, Michael realized how much he missed his home. He was unprepared for the ache he felt when seeing his boyhood home and decided never to leave again. He lived in a small Franciscan community near the church and shared in their work as well as performing his fellowship duties.

He spent the next decade teaching and worshiping at St. Agatha and he looked for the giant chasm of bones he had seen as a child but could find no sign of it. The church's crypt was fairly large but was divided into several chambers. He could find no chamber the size of which he had witnessed over fifty years before.

He asked other priests and all the monks about it but no one knew what he was talking about. Finally, he asked where the bones of the volcano victims were buried and was directed to a cemetery west of town where there was indeed a well-appointed mausoleum but it was nothing more than a sentiment. What he saw on that day in his youth was an ocean of white sticks and stones.

He retired from service as a priest in 1232, thinking that a monk's existence would be vigorous enough for his remaining days. St. Francis had called his followers, _Fraticelli_, meaning Little Brother. Michael had always liked that.

He still heard confessions as a favor to the younger members of the governing priests and he was pleased to still be of use at the age of sixty-three, ancient at that time, even for a Sicilian.

Michael had been just settling into his newly liberated schedule of responsibilities and was wondering if there would ever offer a respite from the sweltering July evenings when he was given a book that would change his life.

* * *

Jasper and Alice woke to the sound of Jacob's laughter in the garden.

When they looked out their north windows they could see something they had missed the previous evening. In a clearing near their wing there was a chess board built right into the ground. Jacob and Rosalie were halfway through a game and when Alice knocked on the window she received waves from them both.

The game looked like fun but Alice knew that she was protected only by the couple's window design and that they would forever have the daytime garden all to themselves.

Rosalie had woken early, which was a godsend to Jacob, who never slept. They made love before dawn and were nestled together when Jacob first saw the streaks of pink filter into his round room. He rested easily for the three or so hours that Rosalie slept on his chest. He was at peace with her and knew that he would never again be separated from her by anything bigger than a puddle.

Even a medium sized fountain was too distant as far as he was concerned.

When Rosalie's eyes fluttered open they stayed that way so she got up and led Jacob to the one room in the tower she knew he had not been to yet.

"We called it the platform," she told him as they climbed the stone spiral steps leading above the bedroom.

Jacob stepped into the room and smiled. It had small wrap around windows built high enough on the walls that one had to be standing to see outside. The room was empty except for what looked like a coffin on legs and a padded elegant bench seat.

"What the hell is that?" Jacob's question was wrapped in a laugh.

"That," Rosalie informed him while lifting a hinged cover and revealing an offset row of piano keys, "is called a Square Grand."

Jacob had no words. He looked at the oddity with a confused curiosity.

"It's a Steinway. They have a factory on East 55th Street," Rosalie elaborated after a short pause.

"How did you get it up here?" Jacob began looking from the sizable instrument to the stone staircase and back again.

"Yes, well, they had to build it up here." Rosalie chuckled at the memory. She had religiously brought lemonade for the men during the nine days they spent working up in the tower. She quickly realized that she had not been in the room since Michael had taken her and her parents and scoffed at the naive girl who served the Steinway workers their afternoon drinks.

Jacob was very curious about the instrument and he appreciated the gift, but it seemed more like something Edward, or even Bella, would enjoy. He chose his next words carefully.

"What made you think of this?"

"You mean you don't know?" Rosalie was truly surprised. She looked like someone had just slapped her.

Jacob shook his head slowly.

Rosalie was no great musician but, when one lived with a piano prodigy, one picked up a few things. She sat down at the bench, placed her fingers purposefully over the keys and began playing Beethoven's _Fur Elise._

Jacob was immediately invaded by goose bumps. The room took each note and draped it with warmth. The acoustics of the chamber made Jacob feel like he was inside the music. It was exhilarating and he found himself holding his breath.

Rosalie did not finish the song. She had only learned the first page of music but saw that her point was sufficiently made. "Didn't you design the room to do this?"

"No." He could only speak a single word. Jacob was absolutely astounded.

Rosalie was surprised but happy to see the extra amenity affect him so. "You wrote a beautiful song for me on a piano in Spain, and you sang that song while Edward played it on a piano in France. Well, this is a piano from America and I want to see what you come up with."

Jacob stood her up and embraced her. "I'll do my best but it will have to wait until after we return."

"I know." She took him by the hand and led him to a window. "I love it here, Jacob. And after mother and I settle our accounts in Paris, I fully intend to come back to stay whether this business with Michael is settled or not."

Jacob sighed but agreed, if only for the time being.

They were a little over seventy feet above street level and had only the churches for company at that height.

"I notice that you didn't put copper flakes in the glass up here." Jacob observed. The pitch and composition of the windows were what protected the vampires, the flakes were just an asthetic touch down below.

"I thought they might interfere with the observatory feel of the room."

Jacob nodded his head. It was a good point, she was a smart person and the room was, in a word, magnificent. They surveyed the city together like it was a sea and they were on the bridge of their own private city liner. It was a serene moment, until his stomach rumbled loudly.

Rosalie laughed and touched Jacob on his belly. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "Big Spoon is hungry." It was like she was making a mental note.

"I'm alright," he shrugged, "I can find something when I book us passage back to Paris."

He walked around the room looking first North over Bella's wing toward Central Park and then around to the East where he could see the Brooklyn Bridge rising like a giant harp out of the river. He walked over to the south windows and could easily make out several ships moored along the lower wharf including the _La Touriane_. Jacob was thinking about how he would be able to stay in a normal cabin with a normal bed, if not outrageously small, when Rosalie encouraged him to move around to the northwest windows and look down at the rooftop garden.

"Is that what I think it is?" He was positively flabbergasted. Below him was a clearing close to the south wing where a chess grid had been installed on the garden floor. It was made from squares of the same light grey marble from the lobby and, he was not surprised to see, redwood. The game pieces were carved from marble as well, royal blue with swirls of white and then the opposite, white marble with tiny royal blue hurricanes.

"I thought I'd give you another chance." Rosalie moved up next to him and pressed her forehead to the small window.

"Let's go see about passage back to Paris first," Jacob offered.

Rosalie eyed him suspiciously but concluded that he was not merely stalling and closed the piano lid.

They met a heavy eyed Captain Caussin on the dock as he was meeting and addressing new deck hands. "...times a day and see the doctor for your voyage injections..." He paused when he noticed Jacob and Rosalie. "And if any of you are working with Hugo in the boiler you will find no better model for shoveling coal than this man."

Jacob stepped forward with a befuddled Rosalie on his arm. "Why were you shoveling coal?" she asked.

"So nice to see you again, Miss Cullen!" Diamond Beard exclaimed. "See there my boy! She was safe all along."

Jacob smiled. "We were not intending to bother you, sir. We were just looking for the porter."

"No bother at all my lad." The Captain's words were accompanied with a slap on the shoulder that he almost had to jump to reach. "But you're not intending to leave so soon are you?"

"Well," Jacob began, "the Cullens were due back in Paris weeks ago as you are aware, and they intend not to be delayed any further. Except that I will be taking the place of Mr. Cullen as he has some unfinished business here. We were just going to discuss the matter with your port officer."

"Nonsense," the Captain bellowed. "I'll arrange everything." He leaned in close to Jacob. "Will you require the use of my compartment then?"

"No, sir. Two normal rooms will be splendid."

"You shall have two suites, one on either side of mine." His exclamation was given with the fervor of a Roman senator. "We depart tomorrow morning at eight."

* * *

Back when Michael was taking confessions there was no divider between priest and penitent. There was always an effort made to make the exchange private enough to eliminate the chance of being overheard, but the rooms were often spacious enough to be quite comfortable. Michael practically made an office for himself in one such room that was otherwise used to store wine in a seldom trafficked area of the church.

His counterparts liked to be near the sanctuary in one of several cloisters when they heard confession. Since Michael had agreed to take over the duties, however, they used the enclosed areas mostly for gossip.

Confessions were heard only on Fridays. This meant that Michael spent most of his time instructing people to get to the point in order to accommodate the waiting penitents. He would walk down the corridor and pass several dozen people, touching them and even greeting some by name.

On one Friday in August, Michael shuffled with his head down and got almost all the way to his door before he noticed that there were fewer than usual people waiting for absolution.

Only one man as it turned out and, he too, had his head down.

He had olive skin and long tangles of black hair slumped over his broad shoulders. He kept his eyes down but that was not uncommon. Michael moved past him, thinking that the absence of would-be sinners made for his lucky day.

The man followed Michael into the room and knelt customarily in front of the priest.

"Grant me the Lord's blessing, Father, for I have many sins."

"I shall hear you my child." Michael was looking at his dirty hair, he would offer the man a chance to bathe and eat once he was absolved.

"I stole a book."

Michael was surprised by the quaint confession. Books were quite valuable and the crime was serious but most confessions involved malicious betrayals or carnal vulgarities. A poor man tempted by treasure was tame by comparison. "Is that your only sin?"

"No, Father, but it is the one that plagues me." He almost looked up at Michael as he spoke the truthful words but his eyes never got higher than the priest's folded hands.

"Would you like to atone for your other sins?"

"There will be time for that, Father, but I am desperate to rid myself of the weight of the book."

"Can you not return the book to its owner?"

The man laughed bitterly. "No."

It was the first time Michael felt unnerved. He realized that he did not want to ask any more questions about the book's owner.

"You must give it away," he instructed after a thoughtful pause. "And then you must go to the Statue of Mary and repent."

The man reached into his pocket and produced a small red book that looked like it had tar running down its soft leathery binding. He held it out to Michael who took it and turned it over in his hands. It was quite old.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" the priest asked.

The penitent looked up at Michael for the first time.

His eyes were blazing red and thick with lunacy.

"A thousand years."

Those eyes leapt up toward Michael's and he cried out in terror.

His outburst was cut off abruptly.

When he awoke, he thought no time had passed and Michael immediately began looking for the devil.

But he was alone in the room.

He felt tremendous pain in his stomach and head but even those maladies could not keep him from noticing that for the first time in six years, he did not have pain in his back or his knees.

Or his feet.

Or his neck.

And his headache was actually subsiding quickly.

Michael actually leapt for joy and that was when things became other worldly. He sprang up high enough to jump over an altar and saw the dusty tops of wine barrels stacked four high. His reflexes were grand as he watched his hands shoot up and catch the ceiling. He landed with a kitten's grace, however, and stumbled comically into the wall.

Which cracked with the impact.

In that moment Michael felt like he wanted to back away from himself and when he looked down at his hands he saw a small droplet of blood on the sleeve of his robe. Before he knew what he was doing he was suckling the stain and savoring the earthly flavor.

Michael could smell more blood and pulled off his robe to discover that most of the garment's neck was dark with the evidence of his attack. Even as Michael buried his face in the stiffening material, he wondered how he could have survived such a bloodletting assault.

He threw the robe aside, dissatisfied with the stale results. He had another thin shirt on underneath but did not bother taking it off. It was clean, he could smell it.

Michael fell to his knees and wept. He had heard that Hell could sometimes appear like Earth but with twisted amendments. Michael mourned that his human sacrifices were all for not.

He knew that if he were indeed in Hell that even God might not hear him but old habits were hard to break, so Michael prayed. He prayed for forgiveness and he prayed for salvation, but mostly he prayed for answers.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the now abandoned book.

He scurried over to it and unwound the thin black leather strap that held the soft cover closed. He opened it up and flipped through a few pages, then a few more.

Michael was perplexed.

The book was empty.

Michael laughed so loud and for so long that two priests and a visiting Deacon came to investigate.

It was a fatal mistake.

* * *

After speaking with Captain Caussin, Rosalie and Jacob chose to walk the thirty-four blocks home. They found a place to eat on Seventh Street and Rosalie told him about the city. She explained that it had a unique power and Jacob had to admit that he felt something special, electric even, since he first arrived.

They came back to a silent theatre and took the elevator up to what Rosalie called the Corner Room. They walked into the garden and along the south wing until they saw the clearing that held the chess board.

Jacob went first and told Rosalie not to take it easy on him. She promised to give him a sound drubbing and that was all he needed to hear.

Ten minutes later, when Alice's knock on the window made them look up, Jacob was down to one rook, one knight, two pawns and his King. They waved at their friends and were resetting the board a few minutes after that.

When they went back inside, they noticed that Bella and Edward's door was open.

"Good afternoon," Jacob called.

"Hello!" Bella's voice came from somewhere inside. "Edward is downstairs with his parents and Emmett."

Jasper and Alice dressed quickly and came out of their room disheveled but cheery. Alice still would not ride in the elevator but carried on a pleasant conversation with the three of them while Bella hollered that she would be down in a few moments.

They found Edward and Carlisle in the orchestra pit. Carlisle was showing him how they had recessed the lights in the pit walls so that the musicians could read their music but not interfere with the audience experience. He was about to launch into a dissertation about how Jacob had perfected the art of acoustics when he walked in.

"Hello, my Rosa-Lilly. And a good day to you Alice, Jasper, Jacob." He nodded at each of them but held his hands up to halt their approach. "Why don't you all stay back there? I want to show you something." He asked Edward to jump onstage and instructed him to speak in a normal voice, quiet even.

Edward took the request literally and sprang up the nine feet with ease. He watched his father reach the group and waited while they spoke. He had been using his father's advice about listening to so many thoughts at once, that is to say trying not to listen to them and instead allowed them to become the tangled white noise of the sea. By not focusing on any one person, Edward was able to pretend that he was simply near the ocean, or a waterfall, or in a wind storm.

He could easily distinguish those thoughts inside the theatre from those without because there was a definite clarity to them. He wondered while he stood there onstage why it should make a difference how much material there was between him and any errant thought just as long as he was within range. He then began wondering if his range could accurately be measured when his father's actual words cut through the static like a church bell. "Say Edward, what do you think of the theatre?"

Edward smiled, he could not think of the word he wanted to use. "I think it's, astonishing." He spoke in a conversational tone, with effort. Everyone was standing a fair distance away.

Jacob was impressed but this was one acoustical effect that morning that did not surprise him. The rest of the group giggled at the magical amplification of Edward's voice and took turns talking to him like he was a celebrity. They all wanted him to speak to them and, when he did, his words were met with more playful laughs and questions.

Emmett leapt up to the first balcony and reported that Edward sounded just as loud from up there.

Jasper looked up at the second balcony with longing but did not attempt the jump. He knew he could get up to where Emmett was but did not dare attempt the level above that from the auditorium floor. He looked over at Jacob, who was also eying the distance.

"Can you make that?" Jasper asked, knowing that he would be impressed even if Jacob seriously considered it.

Jacob nodded. "Maybe even in this form."

Jasper realized what he meant right away, as did Alice. "How high can you jump as a wolf?" she asked.

Jacob looked at the second balcony. "I have jumped sixty feet up as a wolf but, as a man, I don't think I could make half that."

"That balcony only looks about twenty five feet away," Jasper offered with a smile.

"Twenty-eight." Carlisle and Jacob spoke in unison, making Edward chuckle from his position onstage.

"Do it, Jacob!" Emmett cheered.

Rosalie walked up and touched his arm, "We installed an expensive elevator just so you wouldn't have to resort to jumping around like fleas." She leaned forward and whispered the last part in Jacob's ear. Her breath spilled down the back of his neck like hot water. "But I won't mind if you show off."

Jacob took a step back and looked up again. Emmett was grinning down at him. "Don't hit your head on any chandeliers."

With a wink to Rosalie he bent his knees and sprang upwards. He was prepared to grab the railing if he came up short but he ended up almost doing what Emmett had warned him against. He could have reached up and touched the ceiling and was thankfully between chandeliers but landed in the second row of the second balcony with a low thud. He steadied himself on the chairs in front of him and listened to the applause erupt from below.

Edward was laughing. He was the only one who saw that Jacob had split his pants when he jumped. Jacob had not even discovered it yet.

Edward was not laughing loudly but Jacob heard him easily. The mathematics of the room carried sound with an artistic efficiency. Jacob suddenly realized that Edward's synesthesia would provide him with a very kaleidoscopic view of music.

"Edward, have you played any notes on the piano down in the pit yet?"

Edward and Carlisle had leaned on the parlor sized grand piano when they were discussing the recessed lights. He had even noticed the name Steinway on it, but he did not play anything. Bella had a Steinway in Paris, everyone did. By then it was quite simply the only piano to be had. "No, I haven't even sat down at it."

"Good," Jacob declared, vaulting the rail and dropping silently to the floor. He bent his legs deeply as he landed and bounded down the aisle on his way to the orchestra pit. When he got to the elegant redwood ramps that crossed the gap diagonally, he took the steps between them down to the pit. "Just stay there and tell me what you see."

Since writing Rosalie's song, _Conspicuous Smile_, Jacob had been taking occasional piano lessons from Bella. He knew he was no Edward Cullen but he could now play several simple pieces. His favorite among them was from a French composer named Erik Satie.

He played _Gymnopédie, a_ slow moving piece that allowed only a few notes at a time to slip out. Edward had taught it to several of his students and recognized the first chord when it erupted from the pit riding lavender waves of light.

Edward watched as the waves hit the auditorium walls and turned into a pinwheel of symmetry. It was far more precise than anything he had seen before. Other rooms had pushed sound around in great clumsy lumps but, in this new hall, Edward witnessed a fractal masterpiece.

Jacob played through the first movement and Esme, drawn by the music, appeared on the stage from the green room. She stood next to Edward as they listened to the emotive performance from Jacob. When he finished and stood up to face Edward, Jacob saw that his friend was awestruck. "What do you think?"

"You're getting good," Edward finally said.

Jacob frowned. "That's not what I meant, but thank you. I meant, what do you think of the acoustics? Did your synesthesia make it look like a kaleidoscope?"

Edward nodded his head excitedly, that was exactly the word to describe it. "It's indescribable really, but that is as close as its going to get. Jacob, the sound in here is magnificent."

"Hear! hear!" Emmett shouted from the balcony.

There was spirited agreement from the back of the auditorium and Jacob blushed. "I thought you'd like it and I actually felt the same way this morning when..." Jacob's eyes lit up like stars and he took in a sharp breath. "Do you want to see the platform?"

Rosalie snorted. "That might be too much for him?"

"What's the Platform?" Edward asked, intrigued.

Esme had taken his arm as they listened to Jacob play and answered with a grin. "It's where you will write your music from now on."

Emmett walked from the first balcony out into the lobby and waited for the group to appear below him. Bella was on the stairs that swept up the back wall like waves and Emmett called to her. "Bella, we're all going to the platform."

"What is that?" She was at his level and they walked towards each other.

Emmett shrugged his shoulders just before they exchanged a friendly hug. "I have no idea but Rosalie seems to know and...yup, here she comes."

The rest of the group entered the lobby and made for the door that led to the private lounge on that level. Bella and Emmett walked back to the stairs and went up. The next door to the tower was above them in the corner room that connected all three residences.

They arrived at Jacob's bedroom before the rest of the group and listened to their approach up the stone spiral staircase. Carlisle was first. "Oh, hello you two. We're headed up." He kept climbing.

Jasper was next. "Hello again."

He was followed by Alice, who was swatting playfully at Jasper's rear end. "Let's go out tonight, Bella."

Jacob came marching up with a knowing smirk on his face. He winked at Bella and Emmett. "You are really going to like this, Cannonball."

"Why did he call you Cannonball?" Emmett asked Bella as Rosalie passed with a wave.

They both waved back. "It's a long story." Bella spoke out of the corner of her mouth.

"No, it's not!" Jacob's voice reached them from above.

Edward and his mother were the last two in line. Esme stepped into the room and greeted Bella, whom she had not seen yet, with a warm hug. She then shooed Emmett up the stairs and jumped in behind him, leaving Bella and Edward to come up together.

The room was as large as the others but without furnishings it looked positively enormous. This was enforced by the tall cone shaped ceiling and the clear bright view of the New York Sky.

Jacob and Rosalie gave a little bit of the room's secret away but they could not help themselves; Bella said the same thing Jacob had when he first laid eyes on the only item in in the room. "What the hell is that?"

Still laughing, Jacob gestured for her to sit at a dainty stool sitting near Rosalie who, still laughing, revealed the piano keys. Bella sat and read the engraving. She looked over at Edward. "It's a Steinway."

"Then play something lively if you please." Edward suggested. He wanted to see musical fireworks.

He got more than he bargained for.

They all did.

Bella had logged more hours playing Beethoven than anyone else could humanly achieve and immediately began a piece that sent eight jaws back down to the bedroom.

Music positively gushed from the instrument as the _Pathentique Piano Sonata_ took over the platform.

Notes climbed each other like monkeys and it was thrilling to watch how her hands flew over the keys. It looked to Alice like she never touched them.

Edward was, of course, overwhelmed. The sound waves were a bright electric purple that spiraled upward then bled down the walls. When they reached the floor they bounced up only to be sucked into the spiral again.

Edward also saw purple snowflakes spring from the piano in front of Bella and dance before her unseeing eyes. The soundflakes unraveled quickly and turned into rings that swam out into the wealth of color in the air above her.

The music was the perfect backdrop to the panoramic view and, eventually, they all spread out to take a look at the city below them. Jacob and Rosalie remained close to the piano, which was positioned on the northwest wall facing the garden. They were standing in the same place they had been that morning and looked down at the chess board.

Jacob informed her that he would one day defeat her on that very board.

She patted his head and wished him luck.

Jasper and Alice were looking West and could see that the ship traffic on the Hudson River was brisk.

Carlisle and Esme were looking East towards Paris and the Brooklyn Bridge, which dwarfed the city around it.

Edward was looking North towards the goliath Central Park. He felt certain that he would find peace there. He suspected that his hearing range was small enough that it would truly be an oasis from the storm of noise in his head.

Emmett was facing East and looked down onto Eighth Avenue where a man stood looking up at the theatre. When he tipped his hat, Emmett raised his hand in a wave and Edward saw it. He was across the room in a flash and was at once conflicted with fear and astonishment as he stood next to Emmett. He then turned back towards the piano and rushed to Bella's side.

Bella stopped playing the moment he caught her eyes and, as he had hoped, everyone turned to face them. Edward put his finger to his lips and pointed to the east windows.

Bella stayed behind with Edward as the others went to the windows to see. "What is it?" she whispered.

"It's Michael." Edward suddenly looked very worried.

"And he's standing in direct sunlight."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Please consider participating in the Fandom Fights The Flood campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Thank You to Ishouldntbehere for her assistance this week. I'm happy she has joined the team as a pre-reader. **

**Thank You to Adamanta Banks for her dedication as a pre-reader. I appreciate all the time you have spent with the story. **

**Thank you to Raum, who provided assistance with Italian translations. **

**Bella Voce has been nominated for a Cosplay Queen Award (for Best Period Piece) and a Coven Empress Award (for Best Vampire-Centered Fic) in the 'Walk of Fame' Awards. Thank you to the person who nominated the story. Voting begins January 15. In the meantime, you can look through all the categories and select your favorites:**

**twinklingswfa(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Four: The Punishment**

**MOG**


	4. Chapter 4: The Punishment

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight**_

_**Morgan Locklear wrote Wendy's begging them to bring back the Monterrey Ranch Chicken Sandwich.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter Four:**

**The Punishment**

New York City smelled even worse than Paris, if that was possible.

Michael, like Bella, had grown used to the scent of decay and waste. He barely noticed it anymore. As he stood on Eighth Avenue and looked up at Bella's gothic theatre, he caught the aroma of garlic. He had a soft spot for garlic and gothic.

There was music playing from the room on the top floor, Beethoven, and soon the face of the stocky driver whom they called Emmett appeared in the window. Michael wanted to meet Emmett but suspected that only one of them could stand with him in the sun - the mysterious Jacob.

He tipped his top hat to the lad in the window and watched as he waved in return. Almost immediately, Bella's handsome partner, Edward, the level headed one, was peering down from the next window. As soon as he recognized Michael, he turned away. Michael heard the music stop abruptly. When Edward appeared once again, he was joined by a half dozen others who stared mutely down at him.

Michael watched as they looked at each other but, disappointingly, they spoke too quietly for him to hear.

When Jacob came to the window, he spoke clearly. "I'm coming down."

Michael grinned.

* * *

Michael left St. Agatha Cathedral wearing the robes of one of the three men he had killed in a frenzy of animal thirst and power. Moments earlier, when the clergymen walked past the seemingly empty room, not one of them glanced inside. When they heard Michael's painful laughter, however, they could not help but change direction.

His execution had been poor and Michael had spilled far more blood than he was capable of drinking. Mercifully, he managed to keep the Deacon's robe stain free and placed the book inside the garment for protection, despite its uselessness.

When he wandered outside, the first thing Michael noticed was the moon. He could see it like it was no further away than a bird in flight. He was awed by the details, not just the craters but also the rocks and even the occasional sparkle of stardust.

He could also hear a dull roar that compelled him eastward to the Ionian Sea. It was not far from the church and Michael walked there effortlessly on new legs. He was weeping uncontrollably at his wretched behavior and wished that he truly was in Hell. For the alternative was too horrible to think.

But think it he did.

Michael began to consider the possibility that he was now a demon on Earth.

The wrenching reality of the beautiful ocean, something that certainly would not exist in Hell, forced him to accept his predicament as a fugitive. He intended to leave Catania by morning but instead was lost in mourning the life he lost. Michael sat with his bare feet buried in the sand and prayed that God would still guide a demon.

Looking for a distraction, he flipped through the book and examined the rough edges. It looked well-used for a book of empty pages. When he focused on an imperfection on one of the first few pages, he thought he saw words in the paper. It was as though they were slowly coming out of a fog or, more accurately, beneath a kind of mental sand that Michael had to brush away.

He brushed furiously before he could piece together even one complete word because the sand kept sweeping back in. It was as if he was digging a hole in the page and the experience was taxing to the point of painful.

When the word finally emerged, there was no denying what he read: _evil_.

Michael quickly flipped to the front of the book and began concentrating on the first page. Just like before, he had the sense that he was swiping sand from the paper. This time it was easier and he clearly saw some kind of drawing. It was made up of three circles.

The first was the biggest and was located in the lower left hand corner of the page. It had a close ring all the way around it, making it look like a circle within a slightly larger circle.

The second was smaller and close to the first, near the middle of the page. It had a mark inside of it that resembled a squiggly upside down L. It slightly resembled a face and it was also partially shaded on the upper left side.

The third circle was the smallest and up in the right corner of the page. There was a straight line coming out from each direction. The lines did not intersect, or even touch the circle itself, but instead held vigil like compass markers. It made the circle look like a star.

Michael turned the page and began working his way to the words. It was more difficult to uncover but he concentrated hard. Losing focus was easy and every time he did the sand swept back in and hid his treasure. He could only decipher the text one line at a time and the effort was already hurting his head.

_**This is**_

_**the story **_

_**of a **_

_**foolish **_

_**race**_

The words were written large even for a book the size of Michael's palm. As soon as he allowed his focus to lapse, they sank back into milky invisibility. Michael pondered the meaning behind the declaration. Was this book going to answer all his questions?

Exhausted yet intrigued, he immediately began sifting the secret sand that covered the words on the adjacent page. It was more difficult that time around, not much, but enough. By the time Michael read whole page, he was worn out.

_**That**_

_**enslaved**_

_**itself **_

_**Into**_

_**disgrace**_

He was not expecting the first two phrases to rhyme and frankly, was not interested in a long winded story. He was desperate for answers and then turned the page. He wondered how any race could enslave itself as he swiped at the white sand that was deeper still than the page before it.

Michael remembered every word he had read in the book despite the taxing effort it took to retrieve them. The intense experience burned the phrases into his mind and, when he was not trying to uncover new pages, he recited what he knew almost constantly.

Determined to gain useful information, Michael proceeded, deciphering the hidden messages. The vanishing sand was stubborn, but he saw the words easily enough once he got down to them.

_**They had**_

_**science **_

_**and religion**_

_**love **_

_**and art**_

Each page required a greater effort to read, enlisting the full mental capacity of the vampire whose eyes scanned them. Still, he felt as if he had learned nothing. In reality, he had been told quite a lot but Michael was, in a word, distracted. He was tired and was forced to wait for several hours while sitting on the shrinking beach before he attempted to read the next words. The words began rising through the pages like ghosts.

_**There was**_

_**very little **_

_**to drive **_

_**them**_

_**apart**_

After the fourth passage, he realized he needed to stop in order to focus on his plans to flee. He wanted to take a boat off the island but they all seemed to be on their way into port. As he waited for passage, he pleaded for his strength to return. He found he could not hold his curiosity back for long and returned his attention to the book. His head ached from the strain of pushing his way through an ever-thickening layer of pulp between his eyes.

Michael was reluctant to put the book away as the first shred of sunlight touched the crown of his head. The light made his hair sizzle. Out of instinct, he considered jumping into the ocean but did not want to get the book wet; it was the only tool he had that could explain what had happened. He took in his surroundings as he filled with fear. There were some buildings further up the beach but they were in full sunlight.

His head was burning.

He pulled the hood of his stolen robe over his head and stood up. His upper body felt like it was dipped in hot oil but the long garment spared him from harm as he sprinted for the nearest stone structure.

A chapel.

His eyes were boiling in their sockets and his exposed feet felt like leather. He spilled into the church and saw a stone baptismal font next to the door. Frantically, he pulled his hood down and plunged his stinging head into the cool water.

The hiss was loud enough to echo in the room but he was more concerned with his feet; they were actually on fire. Instinctively, he picked up the impossibly heavy stone basin and poured the holy contents all over his blackened flesh.

Before he could howl in pain he heard a roomful of people gasp.

Michael had thought it was Saturday morning, but it was actually Sunday. The small church was crowded with worshipers.

It was also flooded with beautiful streaks of colored light that crisscrossed the sanctuary like vicious birds.

He knew that he was not yet safe and noticed a small dark room near the altar. Michael ran for it, still holding the birdbath-sized bowl.

He was followed by several men.

Michael put his back to the wall as the men peeked into the room. They were keeping their distance. They were scared of him. Michael's eyes widened, maybe they knew what he was?

"I mean you no harm," Michael promised. "I am a priest."

They wordlessly ducked back behind the wall. Out of sight, they began to confer with one another and Michael heard their every uttering of disbelief. Now, even more men were rising to join the group gathered outside the door.

"Please," Michael begged, "I don't know what has happened to me."

One man entered into the room, very slowly. He had his arms raised as if he were taming a circus bear. He took three measured steps then turned toward Michael. His eyes shifted to the baptismal. In response to the invading gaze, Michael set the font carefully down.

"You've been cursed." The man spoke louder and clearer than Michael would have expected given that the man's knees were actually wobbling in fear. He swallowed hard and continued. "And now you have to be cleansed."

"What does that mean?" Michael had a sickening feeling that he already knew.

A voice snuck into the room from around the corner. "We have to take you outside, _amico."_

Michael shook his head. "I cannot go back out there."

Six men came into the room. They were armed with chains and grins. "We know," sneered one of them.

* * *

Jacob crossed the street in long, thoughtful strides. He could feel eyes and hearts on his shoulders. He knew that the man did not travel all the way downtown in the sun to fight.

_But then again_, Jacob thought, _killing me in front of them would be a bold counter to the threat on Riley's life._

Up in the tower, Edward pursed his lips. He heard Jacob's thoughts and did not like them. More importantly though, he heard Michael's thoughts and they were less muddled.

Michael did not come to antagonize, but he was in a fowl mood. He fully intended to secure Bella's services.

Edward could not say anything out loud because Emmett was in the room. As much as he wanted to reassure the group, he did not want Emmett to know that he could hear thoughts.

Rosalie, unfortunately, still had not been told that Edward's ability was a secret and loudly asked her brother to tell her what they were saying.

"I can't hear them," Edward replied, hoping that his vague answer and arched eyebrow would convey his desire for discretion.

It did not.

She slapped his arm and reworded her question much to his absolute chagrin. "What are they thinking, Edward?"

And, as if that wasn't bad enough, she quickly added, "Read their minds."

Bella looked in Emmett's direction as nonchalantly as she could.

Jasper and Alice followed suit.

And finally Edward, who began stammering and arching both eyebrows like a crow at his foot-tapping sister.

Emmett had his nose pressed to the window and was attempting to hear what the men on the street were saying. The group was relieved to realize that he had not even registered the question. He did, however, notice when the room quieted. He turned to see that everyone was looking at him.

"What?"

Edward's mouth was dry, so his words came out sticky, but he knew just what to say.

"Can you hear them?"

Emmett shrugged his shoulders, even a vampire was hard pressed to hear a New York street conversation from seven stories up. "Not really. I mean I can hear them, but this building makes everyone sound muffled. But I can hear all those damn trains squeaking by."

"I have noticed that as well," Edward acknowledged. "But we should also keep our voices low. With the thick walls of the theatre and the city noise, it should be safe to talk.

"Yes, but we're not the ones talking," Jasper commented. His eyes were riveted on Michael. There was something different about him. Something transparent.

"Jacob knows what he's doing," Bella insisted. "Besides, he will be telling Michael exactly what he wants to hear."

"That you are helping him," Rosalie clarified sharply.

Edward looked at his sister, his eyes narrowing minutely. "It's the best way to smooth things over right now. It will keep you safe."

"And he's already proven that he doesn't want to harm us," Emmett offered.

"Tell that to Randall," Rosalie spat.

Emmett was hurt. His God voice was positively aghast and they were both preparing a retort when Jasper interrupted his thought.

"A vampire surviving in the sun." He spoke the words quietly as he looked around the room with a half crazed grin on his ash-colored face. "If they can all do this?" He swallowed hard and looked at the windows. "Then we're dead."

"They can't." Edward risked the confident statement. True, he had already heard Michael's thoughts on the matter but his argument did not require the inside information.

"Riley must have told him about Jacob's threats and Michael decided to show us that two can play at that game. He's just moving his pawn to match ours."

Rosalie smiled at the chess reference, as did Jasper and Bella.

Alice was intently watching the men speak to one another. They maintained a professional distance and an otherwise relaxed posture. "That means that Michael wanted to meet with Jacob alone."

"Oh no," Esme groaned. "He could tell Jacob to come in here and kill us all."

"Jacob is not susceptible to hypnosis," Bella wanted to reassure her.

"Bah," Carlisle scoffed. "No one is."

Bella smiled with fond remembrance of a warm summer's evening in her Paris theatre and simply blew Edward's father a kiss in response.

* * *

The men rushed at Michael with their chains raised. He could only think with mild astonishment that they must have succeeded with the maneuver before in order to commit so foolishly to the doomed plan. They were all within arm's length and that was all Michael needed. He delivered savage chops to six windpipes in mere seconds and began screaming and cursing at the horror of his polished power.

Michael fell to his knees among the gasping and shuddering men. "Is this what you want Lord?" he cried out in anguish. "Did you create this monster only to see him destroyed? For why else cast such a vicious presence down to live with such..." Michael sniffed the air.

"Soft..." Someone was bleeding. "...prey?"

Michael had hit at least one man hard enough to break his skin and the scent was distractingly sweet. He hastily located the doomed man and dragged him to the corner of the room where he drank silently.

Thin, raspy husks of breath scraped along the floor as the few men who remained conscious began screaming in near silent terror. Michael knew then that he would be under siege for the rest of the day. If he were a true man of God, he would give up before he hurt anyone else.

But then he would not be able to taste more blood.

They foolishly came at him two and three at a time after that, but he was able to dodge their choreographed attacks with ease and plucked the life right out of them like he was pulling the stem off of a cherry.

Finally, everything went quiet.

Michael had hours to go before sundown so he took out his book. The blood had invigorated him and he felt like he could power through the whole thing.

He took one last look at the door where he had constructed a morbid barricade of bodies and then focused his way past the salty barricade to the words on the fifth page.

_**They feared**_

_**the moon **_

_**and**_

_**worshipped**_

_**the sun**_

Michael was overjoyed, now he had something he could ponder. He quickly looked at the next page and frowned as the resistance was unfailingly worse with each new verse.

_**And **_

_**those**_

_**beliefs**_

_**governed**_

_**everyone**_

He suspected by then, the third rhyme, that the book was going to be a series of rhyming couplets. He sincerely preferred a more straight forward narrative given his current predicament, but was grateful for any new insight on the race of people that the book was describing.

He listened for any signs of life in the small church and then turned the page.

He was not sure how much further he could go; he was already drained from the effort of reading the words. It was a mental marathon, but he was concerned that the toll it took on his body would have lasting effects.

He had to dig for a long time to get to the new words. The grains seemed to spill back into the page like water.

_**They built**_

_**a great city **_

_**that **_

_**closed **_

_**like a flower**_

He tried to shift to the joining page while he was still focused but it was like hitting a wall. No matter how hard he pleaded with the book to allow just one advantage, he had to start over with each new page even if it was the compliment to a verse. He flipped several pages ahead but found that he could no longer see even errant words even on the page he had read before; The one with the word evil. He wanted to at least get that far.

He wondered if he should have started there when he had the chance.

The thought gave him an idea and he turned back to the front of the book. He found that he was able to get through the first two pages with next to no effort at all.

He found that when reading a page again that the sensation changed from digging to that of one where he was walking through a thick forest but knew which way to turn to find the words in a clearing.

When he had reread the first pages he took a deep breath, still unaware that he no longer required oxygen to live, and fixed his eyes on the next page.

He had hoped that the re-read would allow him a sort of running start, but like before, it was harder than before to tunnel down to the words.

He let the next and all other words from the book get branded in his brain so he could recall them, recite them even whenever he wanted to.

_**Shielding**_

_**them all **_

_**from the **_

_**moon's**_

_**evil power**_

He did it. He was proud of himself but wanted even more now that he was getting to an interesting part. He turned the page to the next verse and started pushing through what felt like mountain of ivory silt by then and it was all he could do to keep his mind focused on the arduous task.

_**They even **_

_**took pains **_

_**not to **_

_**travel**_

_**at night**_

He was fascinated with the tale unfolding in front of him but it had taken him an entire day to get this far. He heard people gathering outside and was determined to escape from the island without killing anyone else.

Except for the unfortunate owner of a boat perhaps.

He still had some time left, so he read the joining page that completed the rhyme, even though he felt dizzy.

_**Convinced**_

_**that the **_

_**moon **_

_**was an**_

_**evil delight**_

There was that word again, evil.

Michael wondered which of the two words he first saw as he heard whispering in the church.

Evil delight or not, it seemed like the moon was his partner in crime.

Michael left the room and found two men standing near the front door. They saw him and retreated. Immediately, there was a flurry of activity outside. He knew that they fully expected him to fight because they were all gathered at the front entrance.

Michael laughed as he walked out the rear and slipped into the star swept night. His gift to his homeland would be never to return.

* * *

Only when Jacob was close enough to shake Michael's hand, did he noticed that the well-dressed gentleman was not entirely…solid. He was ever so slightly ghostlike but upon further scrutiny, Jacob decided that the apparition was more like fine mist.

"I do apologize for not shaking your hand, Mr.?..."

"Black," Jacob answered flatly.

"Black." Michael smiled. "Well, Mr. Black, my name is Mr. Fraticelli, but you may call me Michael." His voice was strained, like he was being choked. Jacob didn't notice it in the mansion the night before.

"Nice parlor trick, Michael."

Michael chuckled quietly. "Thank you. And I would offer you a compliment in kind, only…you aren't performing a trick. Are you?"

Jacob shook his head.

"I can hear your heartbeat young man...but you smell like the old country."

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't had a bath in over a week if that's what you mean."

Michael nodded at the comment. "What is your secret to longevity?" he asked.

"Plenty of sleep," Jacob said without even a hint of a smile. "And I don't think you came all the way down here to discuss my beauty habits. Did you?"

Michael smiled again. He even took a moment to sniff at the air. "No, I did not, and your discourtesy is becoming bothersome."

Jacob finally did smile. "I know."

Michael's expression faltered and he abruptly stepped forward, right through Jacob. The sensation was mossy and invasive and when Jacob spun to confront Michael, he was met with an empty street.

Emmett was watching intently as was Alice and Jasper and they all reacted differently. Jasper closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that only God and Edward heard. Alice got mad and pounded the window with her tiny fist. It made a piston thud on the thick smoky glass.

Emmett exclaimed, "Michael's gone!"

"No, he's not," Carlisle said in a thin string of breath, his eye focused away from the window and the others.

They all followed his gaze across the room to where Michael now stood, regarding them silently.

Edward kept hearing Jasper's prayer over and over.

_Please not that, not that, not that._

No one spoke. No one moved except Michael, who took a moment to look over his right shoulder and down into their garden. He then turned back to the group and dissolved into a shared memory.

When Jacob heard Alice's hand hit the window, he looked up. She looked as confused as he felt but then she turned around abruptly enough to make Jacob's stomach feel like it was back at the elevator.

He looked up and down the street, hoping to run back inside, but a milk wagon and a never-ending patrol of cabs had to pass before he could attempt a crossing. He glanced back up at the tower, the seconds stretching into syrupy strands that wrapped around his legs and lips.

He saw Alice turn back first and she looked disappointed. The rest of their faces filled the windows quickly. They all shared Alice's expression of letdown.

They were expecting to see something.

Jacob saw his opening and stepped out to cross the street just as Michael reappeared directly in front of him. Jacob's leg had already gone through Michael and, if he was solid, they would have been kissing. That mossy smell again filled Jacob's nostrils and he recoiled as Michael smiled widely.

Jacob knew he was being insulted and he took a breath to fuel the torrent of obscenities he intended to splatter the scoundrel with, but Michael pointed to the tower. Then he told Jacob a truth that could not be ignored.

"I am speaking to you as a courtesy, Mr. Black. If you prefer that I bypass your ambassadorship, then I will see you when you arrive upstairs." Michael turned to leave.

"No," Jacob replied quickly, just the way he knew Michael wanted him to. "Please continue."

Michael now stood with his back to the theatre as he recalled their place in the conversation. "Let's see, I was saying something about your discourtesy..."

"I apologize." Jacob spoke calmly but, inside, he was furious. He did not want Bella to consider helping the arrogant worm. Admirably, he held his composure. "I believe you were about to explain your ability to stand in the sun?"

Michael laughed loudly enough for the sound to echo inside the narrow trenches that ran between the buildings. "I was not!" He twitched and chortled for a moment longer, "You're full of grit, lad..."

"Yes, well," Jacob smirked, "I could say...almost...the same thing about you."

Michael laughed once again. It appeared that he was changing his tactic. "I'll just keep tossing them over the plate and you just keep hitting them out of the park, eh, Mr. Black? Do you like baseball?"

Jacob cocked his head to the side like a dog listening for something. "I'm really not very familiar with the game to be honest."

"Oh? We will have to go to see one together." Michael was looking at him expectantly.

"I'll have to take a rain check." Jacob said, knowing that he was using a baseball term and inwardly congratulated himself for using the clever decline. "I am accompanying the Cullens back to France tomorrow morning."

Michael looked at him, unblinking. Up in the tower, Edward could almost feel the waves of disappointment coming from him. He was devastated to hear that Jacob was going to escape his clutches but quickly consoled himself with the fact that Bella would be staying.

Jacob was a mysterious creature and provided great interest for Michael but Bella was the one he wanted. She was all that truly mattered to Michael and this realization infuriated Edward.

"I am sorry to hear that." Michael was sincere. "You are leaving because of me? What if I promise never to allow harm to come to you and your friends? Do you think you would all stay then?"

Jacob weighed the question briefly. "First of all, they are only completing a journey they started two weeks ago. Secondly, if you are implying that you could make such a decree, guaranteeing our mutual safety, then you are implying that you could give an order to destroy us. Is this all just a threat to coerce Bella's assistance?"

"I think we understand each other." Michael looked smug. "May I call on Bella at..." Michael looked at his pocket watch and Jacob could not help but be fascinated to see that even the things in Michael's pockets took on the same misty quality. "...say eight o'clock."

Michael did not pose the request as a question and Jacob knew he did so deliberately. He wanted to deny him flatly but Bella had given her instructions to accept a meeting.

"Why must you come back here?" Jacob asked, trying not to sound forceful.

"Well, if you would prefer," Michael offered just quickly enough to be sarcastic, "you may tell Bella that I shall expect _her _at eight."

"No," Jacob responded, knowing he had just been toyed with. "Here will be fine." Then he added, "But eight o'clock tonight will not do. As I said, some of us are leaving in the morning and we would like to spend our only dinner together."

Michael's speckled eyes unraveled slightly and he practically snarled at Jacob. "I will come at midnight then."

"No good," Jacob said quickly and loudly.

"And why is that not a good time?" Michael grew a smile once again but, to Jacob, it looked more like he was baring his teeth.

Jacob chewed on his next thought. "Because some people would prefer never to see you again." Now it was Jacob's turn to step close to Michael. "Myself included."

Michael took an instinctive step back but it was only met with regret. He circled Jacob like a wolf, stepping out onto the street and earning a profane salutation from a passing cab driver. Michael started growling loudly and began taking off pieces of clothing that dissolved as soon as they hit the ground, sometimes even sooner. His hat and tie came off first, followed by his jacket and vest.

Michael calmly rolled up his sleeves.

Jacob peered up at the windows in the tower. He could make out little more than wide eyes. He looked back to Michael, who was nearly done folding each cuff over three times. "You couldn't shake my hand, Michael. How are you going to fight me?"

Michael stopped pressing his sleeve and cocked his head to the side. "I'm not going to fight you, Jacob. I'm going to convince you."

Just as soon as he heard the words, Jacob was an infant in his mother's arms.

Only, in this moment, his mother was Michael.

And it was the most natural feeling in the world to Jacob. Even when his mother spoke to him with Michael's voice he felt totally at peace and was desperate to please her.

He could even hear her strong pounding heartbeat.

"Why don't you escort me into the theatre right now?"

* * *

Michael knew that his best option was to run north to Messina and attempt to cross the short distance to Villa San Giovanni_. _He found easy passage from Messina and, due to his holy robes and obvious deformity, was not asked for money.

He found a place to hide long before the sun rose on that second day. Trying to keep the sun's awakening behind him, he made haste until he settled down to hide the day away at the half way point to Catanzaro. His comfort was significantly better as he found a row of abandoned stone structures with interlocking tunnels beneath them.

He actually slept for the first time since being attacked. He dreamt of the moon.

When Michael woke, he was thirsty but could tell that it would be hours yet before he could venture outside. He pulled out the book and flipped forward six pages.

He stared at the first of two pages open to him but, to his dismay, the words would not appear. He was so very thirsty and his thirst disrupted his focus on the book, making it impossible to unveil the verse.

Later that evening. to his supreme displeasure, he fed on a goat. Soon after, he surprised a traveler who put up little fight because he was taken so fast. The human's blood was a journey into ecstasy for Michael and he wondered how long it would take for him to rationalize his habit and its side effects. How long would it take for him to stop asking God to forgive him?

With his hunger under control, Michael sat in the moonlight on a hill and tried to read again from the mysterious little book. He was not sure he was actually getting anywhere and, somehow, the grains of secret sand seemed waterlogged. They fell back in watery lumps as he was trying to push the frustrating barricade aside.

He scraped bottom and became so excited that he nearly lost all the ground he had gained. However, Michael extracted the next segment with a determined sneer.

_**They **_

_**spent**_

_**generations**_

_**only in**_

_**sun**_

Michael was panting and noticed that the moon had sailed several feet through the sky. He was hoping to decipher at least one more page before finding a place to sleep out of the sunlight. He squinted his eyes and began sifting and shoveling.

_**And it **_

_**changed**_

_**The skin **_

_**of every **_

_**last one**_

That phrase was of great interest to Michael. He wondered if he had just read about the origin of his cursed condition. The moon was flirting with the treetops and the sky to the east was spreading its arms before Michael stood up and sought shelter.

He moved fast, almost fast enough to stay ahead of the brooding sunrise, but he knew he was running out of time and was fortunate to find a rock quarry with a few deep shafts in which to hide.

He never found anyone to feed from and his extraordinary thirst nearly kept him from sleeping. He laid down on the chalky rock and reflected on his reading. He wondered if the man who gave it to him had read it.

His last thought before tilting into a clenched rest was about whether or not it would take him a thousand years to do the same.

* * *

Edward's hair was mashed against the thick window as he looked down onto Eighth Avenue where Michael had finally appeared in front of Jacob after a nerve wracking absence from sight. The two men continued their discourse and he listened as Michael began to succumb to a chorus of distraction.

He was losing focus and he knew it.

Edward heard the conversation deteriorate as Michael pulled his hat off and threw it aside, stepping into the road.

"Did you see that?" Alice exclaimed. She watched as the hat melted into the street like snow. They all gaped in horrified wonder as Michael walked in a big ring around Jacob, tossing his garments down - only to have them evaporate.

Suddenly, Edward saw a powerful vision. It was of a mother and child, and he saw it from both perspectives of Jacob and Michael. It was disorienting and powerful enough to drown out the city's thoughts for a serene moment.

Edward knew the moment was Michael's doing and, when he looked down at the child, he could not mistake those big brown eyes.

As soon as he realized that Jacob was falling victim to some kind of mind control, he began pounding on the window.

Jacob was lost in the sound of his mother's heartbeat. As Edward listened through their minds, he realized that it was his pounding Jacob interpreted as his mother's heartbeat.

Edward seized the opportunity and stopped. The disappearance of the seemingly constant beating of his mother's heart gave Jacob pause to consider the truth of his surroundings.

He remembered something important.

Something that he would never, not even in the grip of powerful hypnosis, let himself forget.

He looked up into the face of his mother and spoke dreamily. "You're dead. I killed you."

The illusion was broken immediately as Michael disappeared in fury. Jacob was left on the street feeling groggy and heartsick.

He was grateful to see that the street was clear and he lurched over to the stone steps leading to the front doors. When he reached the entrance, he could hear all his friends thundering down the tower stairs.

He met them in the private lounge off of the lobby, where they all had a much different view of Eighth Avenue. Carlisle poured himself and Esme a drink. "What now?" He wanted to know.

"I have a plan," Jasper announced, looking over at Carlisle. "We head south tomorrow morning." He then looked at Edward and Bella, "And, if anybody asks, we went to Paris with the others."

"What happened to waiting for me to talk to him?" Bella demanded.

"Listen to me all of you." Jasper commanded. He needed Bella to appreciate their new reality. "The situation has just gotten worse, much worse. I don't know if an army can stop Michael but it's the only thing I can do and tomorrow is the perfect time to go."

"He's right," Carlisle agreed. "I'll be ready, Jasper."

"Me too," Alice added.

"What is expected of us in Paris?" Rosalie asked.

"Get what you can for the house and the furnishings," Carlisle instructed. "And bring back the valuables."

"And my books," Bella added, speaking to Jacob.

"And my...bottles," Jasper slipped in. They were stored with Bella's wealth beneath the stage in Paris.

"I'll empty the vault behind the shelves," Jacob said to reassure him, "then I'll empty the shelves," he added to reassure Bella. He made a mental note to collect his fig tree as well.

He missed that fig tree.

"Emmett and I will stay with Bella," Edward clarified.

Bella gave Jasper a hard look. "What do you want me to do?"

Jacob put his hand on her shoulder and spoke quietly.

"Stall him."

* * *

Michael found himself in Rome, serving quietly at Santa Susanna_. _His feet were healed but scarred like tree bark. He did not stay long in Italy. Michael kept moving north and as he tried to read from his book. He was thwarted by the daunting avalanche of imaginary pulp with every aggravating attempt.

It wasn't until he was in Salacgriva, Latvia,on the coast of the Gulf of Riga_, _that he stopped long enough to give the book another serious attempt. The effort would take him to the very brink of sanity but, over the course of the next few months, he got a lot out of the book.

He found that he could push himself harder if he fed, so he drank his fill often and poured himself into the book afterward.

_**Their flesh **_

_**grew warm **_

_**but **_

_**cracked **_

_**as it dried**_

It took several tries to get just that first page, and Michael often found himself in tears before he got to the words he sought.

_**The **_

_**frightened **_

_**among them **_

_**went back **_

_**inside**_

Michael could actually picture this race and wondered how the sun became his enemy. He now had to read the pages by revealing one word at a time because he could not keep the sand away long enough to see everything with his final swipe.

It was becoming excruciating to even attempt to read anymore. There was just so much weight to hold as he dug deeper and deeper with every page.

_**But the **_

_**change was **_

_**permanent **_

_**and **_

_**profound**_

Michael was intrigued but wanted to throw the aggravating book in the fire. He knew that he would eventually not be strong enough to continue but pushed himself to stupendous extremes.

_**And the **_

_**heavens were **_

_**filled with a **_

_**glorious **_

_**sound**_

He had preached against false gods and knew that he was reading about a doomed people.

_**Their skin**_

_**kept them **_

_**heated **_

_**even **_

_**at night**_

Michael was not taking week long breaks between pages to build his strength back up and found that it was a good strategy, for a while.

_**And it **_

_**gave them **_

_**the feeling **_

_**that all would **_

_**be right**_

The mental anguish he suffered at the hands of the torturous sands made him jumpy and he had to take longer and longer breaks between pages just to keep from passing out and losing everything he had been working for in the first place.

_**So they **_

_**worshiped **_

_**harder and **_

_**feared **_

_**even more**_

Almost a month passed before he could even attempt the next page.

_**And none **_

_**of them **_

_**knew what **_

_**would soon **_

_**be in store**_

Michael was exhausted. He traveled back South but it took him nearly four months to fully recover from the strain of his exploits. He remembered every word with perfect clarity and repeated them like a prayer.

To his horror, he was not able to budge the page - sand now felt like rock to him. Rock that he had to chisel out.

He was not strong enough to read another word in the book for almost five years.

* * *

Jasper sat at Jacob's desk in the third floor of the tower, studying a recent map of the Southern United States. He had the seven property deeds that they took off the vampires they killed in Paris, and was locating them on the map. Alice was practically perched on his shoulder, her yellow scarf completing the image of a parrot.

Carlisle was sitting on the corner of the desk and leaned in from time to time as Jasper marked the routes. Jacob stood behind the chair with his arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts. He was deeply worried that he would be needed in New York just as soon as he was gone.

Edward was sitting in a brown leather armchair near the dark windows and Bella perched comfortably in his lap. They were speaking quietly so as not to disturb the planning party and watching the electric lamps charge the air. Emmett was in another chair nearby, spinning the globe that sat near the stairs.

"So we're only looking at a week on the road?" Alice guessed. "That's not as bad as I thought."

Jasper laughed. "It will take longer than that just to get to the first property, and remember, we don't know what we're going to find once we get there. Which reminds me," he turned his head from Alice to Carlisle. "Let Alice and I check out each of these places on foot. Just find lodging for yourself and the horses and we'll take care of ourselves."

Carlisle nodded. "I was thinking that I would scout out the towns but would keep moving until evening, until you were free to get in and out. It would make things look more natural."

"Yes!" Jasper waggled his finger in Bella's direction. "That's the point I was trying to make in the green room last night. No one sits in a stopped carriage. It's too... peculiar."

"Exactly," Carlisle agreed, "and if I keep moving, touring if you will, it should arouse far less suspicion."

"It's a great plan, Carlisle," Alice was cheerful. "But Jasper is right; you mustn't go anywhere near those places until we have had a chance to check for vampires."

"You'll get no argument from me."

Bella and Edward snickered at his comment from their romantic position near the speckled glass that sent lovely freckles of light to the street.

"We'll spend the first night in Philadelphia, then on to Baltimore," Jasper declared, turning his attention back to the map. "Then we'll travel through Virginia for a week or so, to Arlington, Front Royal and Harrisonburg…"

"Why do we change states the first two nights but then spend three more in Virginia?" Alice asked.

"The states get bigger as you go South or West," Jasper answered.

Bella giggled in Edward's ear and it sent shivers trickling down his chest.

"After a _long_ two weeks," Jasper continued, "we should be at our first stop, Lily, Kentucky."

"Lily sounds lovely," Alice said in a sweet voice.

"It is," Jasper confirmed. "That whole area around Laurel River Lake is good rich land too."

"What do they grow there?" Bella was curious.

"Corn mostly, but maybe tobacco or soybeans."

"Will you be able to get to a phone?" Emmett asked.

"My guess is that once we pass Arlington, we won't find a switching station that can get a line to New York until we hit Knoxville, Tennessee."

"But that's on the way to the second property in South Carolina," Carlisle added.

"Do you have our number then?" Bella was still unsure of it herself.

"NY Central AT 42118," Carlisle recited from memory.

"I have it written down," Alice told her.

"I have her," Jasper said hitching his thumb over his shoulder at Alice.

"Good." Bella rose. "We're going downstairs to help Rosalie and Esme with dinner."

"I'll go with you." Jacob was grateful for something else to focus on and walked with them down the stairs to the lobby level.

"Don't be too long," Bella called up the stairs. "It smells twice as good from down here."

Emmett sniffed the air and scurried down the stairs. Like Jacob, he enjoyed a good meal.

"Now that we're alone, may I ask you two a question?" Carlisle stood up and walked in front of the desk. Jasper and Alice both looked at each other before returning their gaze to the doctor.

"Of course," Jasper encouraged. "You can ask anything."

"How are you two going to...feed yourselves?"

Alice straightened up. "Honestly? I think we'll do the same thing we're all going to do later tonight. Find someone the world can live without."

"And failing that?" Carlisle probed.

Alice looked at Jasper who, in turn, looked back at Carlisle. "We will find someone. We always do."

"Is that going to be a problem for you?" Alice was sympathetic for Carlisle's feelings but she was also glad they were being honest with him.

"Actually," Carlisle smirked, "I was hoping you would use a sense of self-preservation."

"You don't want us being weak and getting hurt?" Alice's eyes filled with warmth.

"I don't want you being weak and hurting me," Carlisle responded with a relieved gush of air.

Jasper joined Alice in a good humored laugh but then he laced his fingers together on the desk. He leaned forward to address his old friend. "Now, I have a question for you."

"Alright." Carlisle was ready for anything.

Jasper leaned forward a bit more. "We are seeking vampires, dangerous creatures, and we don't know how they'll react to you."

"Yes," Carlisle was not prepared for that. He suddenly realized what he had signed up for and all the air seemed to leave the room.

"We plan to work without you until we can trust them," Jasper continued. "We will bring you in when we decide to direct them here."

"Alright." Carlisle breathed a little easier. It was not as bad as he had thought it was going to be.

"But…" Jasper now leaned back and let his hands fall to his lap. "If something happens...and you get attacked...what do you want us to do?"

Carlisle was confused, or at least he wanted to be for just a moment longer. "What do you mean?"

Alice placed her hands on Jasper's shoulders and clarified their question. "If we have to choose between letting you die and changing you into one of us, what do you want us to do?"

Carlisle answered quicker than he expected to.

"Let me go."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, I have decided to publish the poem as it's own story. I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. They will all be contained in one chapter so this is the only alert you will receive on "Michael's Book". It is merely a reference tool.**

**A very happy birthday to Adamanta Banks! **

**Please consider participating in the Fa****ndom Fights The Flood campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Bella Voce has been nominated for a Cosplay Queen Award (for Best Period Piece) and a Coven Empress Award (for Best Vampire-Centered Fic) in the 'Walk of Fame' Awards. Thank you to the person who nominated the story. Voting begins January 15. In the meantime, you can look through all the categories and select your favorites:**

**twinklingswfa(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Five: A Fond Farewell.**

**MOG**


	5. Chapter 5: A Fond Farewell

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**Morgan Locklear owns the new Iron & Wine album: Kiss Each Other Clean.**

**It is a worthy and brilliant follow up to The Shepherd's Dog. I love it.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five:**

**A Fond Farewell**

The Hudson River curtsied to Manhattan Island with little affair and rarely any witnesses. However, when it brushed the southern end of the island, a never ending doe-si-doe of ships traded waves and horn blasts. Even at night, the Upper Bay was a maneuvering nightmare for all but the biggest ships.

After sharing dinner with the Cullens, the vampires discussed the need for a more prudent source of nourishment. Edward led the group from the green room to the lobby, where he warned them that he would not kill an innocent person on that or any other night.

No matter how much the older vampires tried to explain the reality of the situation, he would not be deterred. Edward's association with Jasper and the American's clever thinking had provided the whole group with fresh, anonymous and victimless nourishment for half a year.

"You will deteriorate if you don't drink blood, Edward," Bella reminded him.

"She's right," Jasper added. "Why don't you find a quicker way to kill yourself, for all our sakes."

"I've seen what it can do to a person," Bella spoke quietly. "And now, so have all of you."

Before Emmett and Alice could offer their opinion, Edward clarified. "I want to take precautions to ensure that we, at very least, are not depriving the world of a divine person or a genius mind."

Interestingly enough, it wasn't himself that he was worried about. After all, he could approach any one of ten filthy hearted monsters whose thoughts regularly pierced his own. He just did not want them to accidentally kill any of the hundreds of people who were heroic in nature and had generous hearts. Thousands of others were simply trying to get by in the world and would never deserve a death sentence for their desperate measures.

"Even a killer may possess a genius mind," Emmett pointed out. "We all have devils and angels whispering in our ears. It just depends on which voice you listen to."

It was an interesting thought, especially coming from Emmett. Edward listened for the God voice that Emmett usually produced, but it was silent on the matter.

Despite his lofty position, Edward did not want to involve his family in such a vulgar topic of conversation, but Carlisle overheard them and saved the day. He had noticed how they all scurried away after the meal, like all young people seemed to do. After he helped Esme clean up, he excused himself to go back up to Jacob's study.

When he passed through the lobby, he got the gist of their discussion and mentioned the prison island located a few miles to the North.

After he told them what he knew about the island's nine year history, they decided to explore the famed _Grey Bar Hotel._

Jacob stayed at the theatre with Rosalie, Esme and Carlisle while the vampires took to the streets of New York like pirates.

The vampires did not want to be spotted on a ferry, so they took a cab up to East 85th Street, before making their way to the river on foot. Bella cheered as they spotted Mill Island. They had already assumed that Bella would have to fly them over to the prison, one at a time, but the short distance between the island and the shore made it possible for all of them to cross the East River in a jump.

As long as they got a good running start along 96th Street, that is.

Jasper was confident. He had jumped the Seine River already and it was a comparable distance. Emmett was the newest member of the group, thereby the weakest, and he hated knowing that. Jasper had often said that weak newborns ensured the survival of everyone on the planet and that they should all be very thankful that it was not the reverse.

But Emmett desperately wanted to be relevant.

That whole part of town was draped in darkness and the little island in the middle of the river was practically deserted. It was barely big enough for another running start but, one by one, they vaulted over the inky water to the west end of Long Island. To a place called Astoria.

From there it was literally a hop, skip, and a jump away, the last jump being over Bowery Bay. The complex was made up of several square buildings behind a thin but high wall.

Bella jumped, just like the rest of the group, but she was prepared to take flight if she fell short. As it turned out, even Emmett cleared the spans with little difficulty.

Jasper and Alice discovered that holding hands was a mistake. They pulled each other into a pinwheel on the first leap, but never let go of one another and saved themselves a cold wet landing. They ended up on the island, more or less in the spot they intended.

Edward just ran across the water.

He went straight to Riker's from Harlem and, as he streaked across the river, he made a mental note to familiarize himself with all the waterways as soon as he had an opportunity. It would only take a few minutes.

He hit the shore and sped along the beach, looking the buildings over. By the time the rest of the party arrived on the south end of the island, Edward had been around the prison twice.

"All of you are dry?" he asked with genuine astonishment. "Even my shoes got wet." Edward held up a shiny size nine Crocket and Jones full brogue, and it obediently dripped.

"I was cheating," Bella admitted. "I hovered over from...?"

"Queens," Edward supplied. He had studied the area map of New York while traveling at sea and pointed out the low hills to the Northwest. "And that's called the Bronx. Woodstock is where all of the freight trains come in."

Alice had sidled up next to Bella while Edward was talking and stage whispered. "Can you give me a piggy back ride next time?"

They all chuckled as Bella actually agreed.

"I'd like to see that," Emmett said innocently.

"Alright, alright," Jasper was still smiling. "Edward, how does it look?"

Edward's eyes gleamed. "How am I supposed to know how it looks? She hasn't given Alice any piggy back rides before that I've seen." He smiled broadly, happy with the giggling results. Emmett was holding his stomach.

Jasper looked worried as the noise level rose.

"Don't worry," Edward reassured him. "They aren't guarding the outside." He cleared his throat and addressed the group. "We can jump the wall wherever we want, and the windows are all so high that half of them are already open for ventilation. We just drop in and jump out."

There was no light in the prison once the sky darkened and moving through the main building was an exercise in silent simplicity. Edward could hear that most of the men were not asleep, but they were all quiet.

Bad things happened to prisoners who talked at night.

Edward was pleased with the concept of targeting criminals, and even decided to use their thoughts to guide him to those most vile. At first, he felt bad when he heard how scared most of the inmates were, but interestingly, he determined that they were most frightened by a few fellow prisoners.

It was easy to locate them, and Edward told Emmett that he had seen where the most violent offenders were housed when he scouted the island.

He pointed to a cell and nodded his head grimly. Emmett went in without hesitation but Edward did not follow until he heard the two heartbeats fade out. He was ashamed to be so squeamish but he was not sure that it was such a bad reaction to murder no matter how guilty the party.

Between the five of them there was a need for only two human donors, so they staged a scene suggested by Emmett.

He thought of the idea while the group was landing on Mill Island, after picking up a piece of metal. Emmett decided it could be left behind in order to sell a human on human attack. It was met with wild enthusiasm by his friends and he even volunteered to do the dirty work.

Edward was all too happy to agree. He had not fed from a living victim since killing Jean-Paul Sophia. It was a rude reminder of what he really was. And what he needed to do to survive.

They fed quickly and Emmett left the bloody shard of steel in one of the men's hands.

It appeared as though the two cellmates had decided to settle their differences, permanently.

Jasper was thrilled with how the whole caper went. He felt that a leap over the East River every other day seemed like a small price to pay for knowing that he was condemning an already condemned man. He just wished that he would have the same luxury when he and Alice traveled to Louisiana. He cared for humans deeply, and often found that elderly people were grateful to be given a quick and relatively painless salvation.

Targeting elders was a practice Jasper often employed in the past but, when he moved to France, he had changed methods. Jasper did not know exactly what they were going to find in the southern states. If things went half as easily as they had so far that night, he would consider himself very lucky.

Getting out of the prison was not as easy as they had hoped and Emmett decided to carry a ten meter length of rope with him on future excursions. They all got out eventually but it was difficult to do so without drawing attention. In the end, Bella lifted half of them out.

They took a different route back to Manhattan, jumping from South Brother Island to North Brother Island. When they reached the Bronx, Edward told them that he would like to focus on areas of town where they could find individuals who belonged in prison but had not been caught. The prison was a safe and easy option but would be too easy to exploit.

"Rosalie told me that there were over twenty five thousand unsolved murders in New York City last year," he explained, "mostly due to gang violence. We could easily hide our instincts within that kind of brutality but, better yet, we could intercept it."

"I would love that," Emmett said.

Jasper and Alice liked the concept but would be out of the city soon so they encouraged their friend and pretended not to be jealous.

Bella was happy for Edward but often worried about what would happen if he were forced to make more difficult decisions concerning his survival.

Edward then split from the group to check out the rivers but with the promise that he would make it back to the theatre before they did.

He raced all the way around Long Island, even going into Oyster Bay, Smith Cove and every other watery nook he could find along the way. When he ran along the south side, he noticed that there were several long skinny islands separating him from the Atlantic Ocean. They acted as breaks and the huge bay he ran on top of between them was as smooth as a mirror.

When he passed the lighthouses along one strip of land, he heard people thinking of it as Fire Island.

The name sounded romantic to him.

And dangerous.

* * *

Michael went to Egypt.

He had wandered around northern Europe for the better part of twenty years and had even gone up into parts of Russia, known then as _Muscovy. _There, he found a new solitude in a harsh environment. He liked the cold. There were not many people, which was both a blessing and a curse. At least everyone kept their head down.

In all that time, he was only able to read four pages of the book and the disappointment was so great that he buried the book in frustration. He went to Africa and put it five feet under a Baobab tree. As he dug a hole in the hot ground he thought of the last four pages he read.

_**Stories**_

_**were told**_

_**to **_

_**frighten**_

_**the young**_

_**And**_

_**suspicion**_

_**leapt from **_

_**everyone's**_

_**tongue**_

_**Even**_

_**criminals**_

_**were**_

_**kept**_

_**at bay**_

_**With threats**_

_**of the **_

_**sun **_

_**being**_

_**taken away**_

Michael had become angry after reading those words. The thought that he was some kind of deviant who was being punished for a crime he did not commit was a companion. He was struggling with the injustice of it all and that struggle shook loose some disturbing thoughts.

It was when he began to doubt the existence of God that he worried deeply for his sanity and humanity. That was the jolt that caused him to cross the Mediterranean Sea and deposit the book in the red Barbary soil.

He then spent five decades stalking around in dense Scottish forests. He recommitted to God, determined to prove to himself that he was still a good person. He continued to mourn the loss of each life he took while realizing that his feeding habit was growing.

Amazingly, Michael found a forest canopy so old and dark that he could walk for nearly half a kilometer in the olive gloom without so much as an itch on his skin. It was near Galloway and there was actually a much larger space in which to roam, but he stayed in the very dankest parts of the forest as a precaution. He was simply thankful for what he had, daytime sounds and daytime warmth.

He found nourishment nearby, in one of several villages that he kept an eye on. He did not want to draw crowds into the forest looking for a monster, so he fed carefully, choosing travelers when he could or taking brave hunters seeking an impressive kill of their own. If pressed, he would settle for whisking someone away in the night so that the only thing left behind was a mystery.

Michael used that time to contemplate his new life. His prayers had long been replaced by the running verses in his head but he believed fervently that there was a God and that maybe, like Job, he was being tested.

Michael knew, however, that things would become much more grave if this were true.

* * *

Edward was filling the tower's top room with purple light as he played _The Well-tempered Clavier. _Judging by how far along he was, Bella guessed that he had only been back for about five minutes.

Jacob was waiting for them in the lobby."How did it go?"

"Better than expected," Bella smiled. "I think we found our spot."

"We weren't even seen," Emmett added. "And next time there will be even less of us."

"Yeah," Alice was dejected. "It's the perfect spot and we're leaving it behind."

Jasper walked up and hugged her from behind. "We won't have any problem feeding down there." He kissed her cheek lightly. "I promise."

"Where's Rosalie?" Emmett asked.

"She's up with her mother in Bella and Edward's room," Jacob answered.

"And Carlisle?" Jasper wanted to plan a few more routes before sending the human to bed.

"He's up in my study." Jacob turned toward the elevator and pressed the call button, "Esme has already been hollering for him though."

Jacob waited for the slow lift to reach him while Jasper, Alice and Emmett went into the lounge to take the stairs up to see Carlisle. Bella stayed behind and looked expectantly at the elevator doors.

"I'm sorry you have to leave so soon," she told him after it had come to a stop.

"Me too." Jacob opened the wooden sliding door for Bella and they both stepped inside. "Rosalie says that she and her mother want to clear matters up quickly. We could be back by October, if you want to keep the wedding date."

"No." Bella shook her head, making her hair sway in and out of her eyes. "We want to settle in first and I'm not planning a new wedding without them."

"Alice will be gone too," Jacob observed with a smirk.

Bella punched his arm. It was the same arm that Rosalie usually slugged.

Except that Bella hit a lot harder.

They stepped out into the Corner Room and greeted Esme, who was just passing through to yell down the tower stairs, again, for Carlisle to put a hustle in his bustle.

Carlisle was just getting to his feet when Jasper, Alice and Emmett walked in. "Hello all. I have us mapped through to our third week."

"Are we going to South Carolina after Kentucky?" Alice asked.

Carlisle touched his nose. "Joanne, South Carolina to be exact."

"We have to stop in Charlotte first," Jasper announced as he walked over to the map.

"But that's a day out of our way," Carlisle pointed out, almost complaining.

"Two days," Jasper corrected, "but we need to remember that our main purpose for going down there is to contact my past associates and Charlotte was lousy with them." He smiled at his friend. "Don't worry, there won't be many side trips, most of them will be together…wherever they are."

Edward's piano playing, which had switched to a Mussorgsky piece, cascaded down the steps like water. The door from the tower's lounge was left open when the group went upstairs and the sound flooded into the huge lobby for the first time that night.

Sixty feet above it, Edward heard the new element and actively listened as _Pictures at an Exhibition_ soaked the otherwise empty room with thick music. A few moments later, Esme's last warning to Carlisle trampled the song but only briefly. Her voice was washed away with a new stream of sound.

Carlisle scuttled off to help her pack, although to his knowledge their bags had been packed for two weeks...and had even been to France and back. Then again, he thought, Esme and Rosalie may have changed clothes a few times since getting them back.

The rest of the group followed Carlisle up past Jacob's bathroom, where Jasper and Alice got their first look at the rounded marble paradise.

"Holy Happy Cow!" Alice exclaimed, stunned.

"I know," Carlisle said, already half way out of the room, his voice echoed in Jacob's empty bedroom as he raised his voice to be heard below. "Jacob got the best bathroom, but you two got the best view."

"Really?" Alice asked, "How so?"

Carlisle led the party out of Jacob's room and turned left to Jasper and Alice's. Esme and Rosalie could see him through Bella's open door. "This way, Papa," Rosalie called.

Emmett, last up the stairs, walked towards her. "He's showing Jasper and Alice why they have the best view of New York."

Emmett was hoping to get a chance to talk to her a little bit, maybe even say a proper goodbye. He had been preparing what he was going to say to her. He wanted her to see him as the new man he was.

"They do!" Rosalie squealed and rushed past him to the other room with Esme on her heels, the packing momentarily forgotten in favor of the sparkling spectacle of Lower Manhattan. Jacob and Bella, who had been talking by the windows in her room and enjoying quite a lovely view of the Brooklyn Bridge, went over to appraise the competition.

Emmett was left in the room alone.

* * *

Michael always knew that he would return for the book. After all, he had taken considerable care to wrap it in leaves and chose a spot in a continent where it was unlikely to flood. He walked away, intending to return only when the book had completely released its hold on him.

In many ways it did.

He found a routine that suited him and learned many things about his body in those decades. His enhanced strength and speed were greatly improved with practice. When he had to room to run, Michael learned that were was an art to balancing one's self at such speeds.

He took several bad falls and, usually, he took his frustrations out on a tree with especially low branches. The act, while non-Christian, certainly made him feel better.

His eyes constantly surprised him and he observed the heavens with wonder for hours on end whenever he had the opportunity. Eventually, Michael realized that he was thinking faster as well. It was something he nurtured with self-imposed challenges to decipher nature's secrets or to be more in tune with his own body.

He had grown used to being an old man and his limber legs still bowed out of habit, but he took full advantage of his new life and conditioned himself daily.

He had been a keen observer of humans while he was one, as well as during the time since. As a result, he learned to use his perceived weakness to draw in the unsuspecting prey. He was aware that his victims' last act on Earth was usually one of kindness and he developed a habit of offering them absolution as they sank into the mortal swamp.

Usually, he pretended to struggle with his cart. Someone would always offer assistance and, if no one else was looking, Michael would accept.

He promised them a pass to heaven with a bloody kiss to the forehead.

After he fed, Michael always burned the bodies but had to walk for miles at night just to find dry wood; even vampires have to suffer life's little inconveniences.

During the first decades of his new life, Michael had been able to drag one tree back into his dewy den. Over time, he was pleased to see that his conditioning had made it an easier task, but one day he decided to pull two trees back and he did it with ease.

He widened his trail a bit in the process.

A few years later, Michael started stacking trees on top of each other and it made little difference as he pulled four trees back to his camp with ease. He reached a point where he only had to go for wood once a year.

And he suspected that something was happening to him.

He began testing himself with other tasks that required vampiric power, beginning with the waterfall he bathed in. He jumped from its modest thirty-foot height regularly but remembered something he had done in his first nights in Galloway.

He had jumped out as far as he could in an attempt to reach the shore of the lagoon over a hundred feet away but it had proven a bit too far. Michael guessed that he had traveled close to eighty feet that evening and still had another forty to go before he would have hit the beach.

As he stood in the same moonlit spot he had half a century before, Michael remembered very clearly what he was thinking about that day.

The book.

He made his decision to go back for it before he jumped again with all the strength he possessed.

He yelped in surprise as he was catapulted over the trees and into the midnight green unknown.

He walked back to the shoreline, one hundred and seventy paces away. He knew that the waterfall was another hundred and twenty feet beyond that. Michael was shocked. Almost three hundred feet, even with the height advantage of the falls, was a staggering figure.

Soon after, Michael learned that he could jump fifty feet straight up and that surprised him even more. He had been climbing up to that waterfall for a long time and to suddenly discover that he could spring up almost twice as high was almost as surreal as becoming a vampire in the first place.

He tried one other thing even though he knew he was going back for the book. He was simply curious as he picked up a rock the size of a potato and threw it. He laughed out loud at the ridiculous distance it sailed before falling back to Earth so far away that Michael did not hear it land.

Africa was hot and open and hard to hide in during the day. Michael traveled there as quickly as he could and retrieved the book unharmed. He went back to his forest home in Scotland but things did not feel right there for him anymore; it was as if he had outgrown it.

He carried the book to Egypt, all the while ignoring the pages within. When he got there he found, for the first time, others like him.

Amazed that he was no longer alone in the world, he liked them very much but quickly understood he could not trust them. They talked to their felines and drank blood from the upturned skulls of their victims. They lived in the countless tombs in the desert and welcomed him without question, so he was friendly and appreciative but kept mostly to himself.

They were mischievous and they always seemed to have plenty of blood. Michael spoke about God only once.

"God is a ghost," one of them scoffed. He was a powerfully built young man who called himself Osiris. He and another vampire, who took the name Horus,were in charge of a complex of tombs and tunnels.

The massive chambers, some of which would not be officially discovered for another several centuries, were utterly fascinating to Michael and made him think of the giant cave of bones he saw under the Saint Agatha Cathedral when he was a boy.

He liked Egypt and he could not get enough of the labyrinth of passageways under the ground. Michael regularly sprinted up the smooth casing stones on the pyramids and then slid down the other side on a mirror of polished white limestone.

He decided to keep the book's existence a secret and even put it out of his mind again, this time for another six years. Despite its weight against his new robes, a gift from his hosts, he never so much as opened it. He wanted to master its temptation before he once again set eyes on the salty pages.

The night he finally did read, Michael had not even grazed the thought of attempting to do so but, after feeding in Cairo, he found himself sitting atop the Khafre Pyramid. It was one of three monstrous man made mountains in the West Desert.

The image was just too symbolic and, as a former sermon writer, Michael knew a dramatic moment when he saw it.

Michael opened the book and found that he recalled each verse, roughly, as he turned past the pages he had already mined.

He was expecting to be successful and he was prepared to work for it, but he was delirious to find that he could move tremendous amounts of material with his mental swipes at the gritty barrier above the words.

With a marginal effort, he read the newest verse.

_**They **_

_**isolated**_

_**those **_

_**who**_

_**disobeyed**_

Once Michael started a verse he felt compelled to complete the thought on the next page. He was overjoyed to learn that his absence had indeed made him stronger. He shifted focus to the next page and continued.

_**Kept them**_

_**controlled **_

_**and **_

_**kept them**_

_**afraid**_

One whole verse and he did not even have a headache. Michael quickly turned the page, eager to test his new strength on what would certainly be a more formidable next installment.

_**Any **_

_**wrong **_

_**doers **_

_**sent to**_

_**a place**_

It was not fair how much harder it got so quickly. Michael was handling himself well but had started trembling. He could not bear stopping.

_**That **_

_**denied **_

_**them all **_

_**the sun's **_

_**embrace**_

Michael was amazed at how quickly fifty-six years were swallowed by that book. His new strength made him feel like someone had given him a shovel but then asked him to dig twice as far.

Had he not been diligent about improving his strength, he would never have been able to mentally withstand the expedition.

Knowing that the next two pages may be his last for decades, Michael turned to them and charged into battle. The phrases came out in wisps, but he got them both and was back to staring at the stars after an hour of the most difficult work in his life. So far.

_**Thrown**_

_**down into **_

_**a small **_

_**stone **_

_**cell**_

_**No**_

_**bigger **_

_**than a **_

_**garden **_

_**well**_

His head was pounding by the time he was finished but he had just devised what he thought was a different method of keeping the path to the page clear while still bringing more imaginary sand up. It was a glimmer of hope.

Dawn was still just a prediction and his own tomb was not much farther from where he sat.

If the horizon got too bright, Michael could always buy more time by sliding down the structure. In fact, he and his vampire colleagues had long been in the habit of monitoring the pyramid tips for the first kiss of sun.

If a vampire was not indoors within ten minutes of the sun's first caress of the reflective surface, then they would feel their skin sizzle.

Michael set his chin and started in with his new technique. It involved visualizing additional hands next to his, each with their own shovel. He told himself that he would put a hundred hands in there if necessary as he tested it out on the next page.

_**Dug out **_

_**extra **_

_**wide**_

_**at the**_

_**top**_

Michael did not appreciate the irony.

_**Forcing **_

_**exposure **_

_**to every **_

_**moon **_

_**drop**_

He was dripping with sweat. A few of the drops fell to the page and made neat circles. The technique had worked for a while, but it was just getting too heavy to hold back all that mass while he continued digging.

It was more reading than he expected to accomplish that night and he could tell that the next page would have to wait. He was not strong enough to continue and had a sinking feeling that it was going to take a lot longer than fifty-six years to build up to it once again.

He defeated dawn by an hour and looked like someone who had just run for a day after drinking a jug of sand. His tomb-mates noticed his uncharacteristic appearance but said nothing. They also noticed that he drank more blood than usual but again remained silent.

Michael spent the whole day thinking about what he had seen. He imagined himself thrown into a well but it would have been the sun, not the moon, that would have had him petrified.

He also wondered if he could refine his multiple hands technique. He thought that he could and, before the sun went down on the rippled land, he had decided to try the book one last time before allowing himself to put it aside for a century.

That night Michael chose to sit on top of the Khufu Pyramid. It was the biggest tomb in Giza, although it remained unused. As he read, the moon slowly oozed from one side of the sky to the other. It cast a shadow of his head over the page he was reading but he barely noticed.

It was not the only thing he missed that night.

Cleverly, he was able to read two more pages by using his new visualizing technique one last exasperating time but it took hours of deep concentration to orchestrate a dozen arms reaching into a white abyss that only seemed to beckon his sanity.

_**They were **_

_**starved**_

_**until **_

_**at last**_

_**they ate**_

By this time he was being watched quite closely, but his observers backed off as the dawn threatened all elevated positions.

_**The reptiles **_

_**condemned**_

_**to share **_

_**their **_

_**fate**_

Michael was puzzled, and he was completely drained. He would worry about the fact that the book implied that he was part snake later but, at that moment, he just wanted to stumble indoors and sleep.

He stood up and looked East, he was cutting it close. He cautiously raised his hand up over his head and quickly pulled hot fingers away.

"I think it's time we went indoors," came the familiar voice of Osiris.

Michael looked down to see four vampires. One strategically placed at each corner of the pyramid.

"What is that you're reading?" Horus asked sweetly.

The sun impatiently waited for his reply.

* * *

Almost eight hundred years later, that same sun skimmed the top of New York City and the first thing it touched was the steeple of the Trinity Church. Jacob could see it from where he was, sitting up in bed with Rosalie curled up in his lap. He was stroking her hair and smiling like the dawn.

Even though he was leaving good friends, and in a sticky situation to boot, at least he would be doing so with Rosalie in his arms. He would have someone to talk to up on deck of the ship in the middle of the day and, best of all, no one was going to ask him to shovel any coal.

Bella and Edward were in the horse stable with Jasper, Alice and Carlisle. Its long stone entrance may well have accommodated any vampire's daytime aversions, but Esme had also added an emerald curtain that drew straight across the wide arch. It matched the curtain onstage and gave the otherwise primitive area a certain cache.

Like all the rooms in the theatre, the stable was lit by electric light bulbs that were perched in the ceilings like glowing bats.

The three southbound surveyors were done packing the carriage with what they needed, including several three liter wooden honey kegs filled with rick, dark, fresh blood.

They were a gift from Emmett, who had returned to Riker's Island the night before, purchasing the small empty barrels from pubs along the way. He brought a net along with him and only his leaps to and from Mill Island gave him any trouble.

He had to transport the petite kegs into the prison one by one, but with his medical knowledge and a few implements he brought along with him, he was in and out quickly. His rope came in handy too.

Jumping back over the East River with a heavy net made him look like a deranged, and drunk, Saint Nicholas.

There were four barrels in all and they fit nicely under the benches facing backwards. Alice was absolutely speechless and hugged Emmett fiercely enough to make him squeak.

Esme came down in the elevator toting Carlisle's forgotten shaving kit and a brave face. She and Carlisle would now bear a burden so recently suffered by their daughter and her love - that of an ocean between them.

They took the impending separation in stride, having said their intimate goodbyes the night before.

"Are you all ready to go then?" Esme asked as she gave him the leather case.

"As soon as I speak to Edward," he answered with a nod.

Edward knew a cue when he heard one and walked over to his parents. "Do you want me to go get Rosalie?" he asked.

"No," Carlisle responded. "Esme, would you mind doing that?"

With a smile, Esme walked to the door to the tower stairs and hollered loud enough to reach Jacob's bedroom. "Rosalieeee, come say goodbye to your father."

"Done," she said walking past them and over to Bella and Emmett, who were saying goodbye to Jasper and Alice.

"Listen, son," Carlisle said while clapping a hand on Edward's shoulder. "You need to be very careful around Michael. He's hiding something."

"I will." Edward leaned in and spoke quietly. "And, if I'm lucky, I'll _hear_ what it is."

"Be careful doing that as well, Edward. He's unpredictable."

"But that's exactly why I'll be listening." Edward shrugged his shoulders. "To give us warnings."

"I understand, but you can't even trust that. The craziest people don't know that they're crazy. In fact, some of them think that they are the most intelligent ones on the planet."

"Ah, but you see," Edward reasoned, "Michael has already considered that possibility."

"Is that your best defense?" Carlisle did not know whether to laugh or cry. "He's not crazy because he has considered the fact that he's crazy?" He shook his head and chuckled. "Just be careful, son. I don't think he means any of you harm but...just be careful."

"I will." The two men embraced. There was nothing left to say.

Actually, there was one thing left to say.

"I love you, boy." Carlisle punctuated his heartfelt words with a tight squeeze that Edward was careful not to return in full force.

"I love you too."

Rosalie arrived downstairs with her eyes sleepy but her hair awake. She walked straight to her father and hugged him loosely. "Bye Papa," she mumbled.

"Goodbye sweet dreamer." He spoke with a gentle voice, reserved only for her.

She let him go and wandered around the room hugging everyone, whether they were leaving or not. Then she returned upstairs without another word.

"I'm not sure she's even going to remember that," Edward observed.

"Well then," Jasper said with a wide smile that followed him into the carriage, "we're off."

"You call us every night you can." Bella instructed Alice as she rushed over for one last hug.

"We will." Alice was going to miss having another girl around, for that matter, so was Bella. They were both stuck with two boys for a few months at least.

Jacob, Edward and Emmett all stood in line to shake Carlisle's hand.

"Let those two handle the...otherworldly aspects of the trip," Jacob offered sternly. "And, if it gets bad, lock yourself inside." He patted the side of the coach. "It's vampire proof."

"I will. You take good care of my girls, Jacob," Carlisle replied thickly.

Jacob looked the exemplary man in the eye. "I promise."

Jacob went to poke his head into the carriage to say something to Jasper and Alice, while Edward shook his father's hand. "Come back safe."

Emmett shook Carlisle's hand firmly. "I was hoping to spend more time together Carlisle. Physiologically, there are some fascinating things happening to our bodies."

"I've covered all that ground before." Jasper called with good humor, "and speaking of ground one has to cover..."

Carlisle hopped up onto the whip's bench and grabbed the crop. "We'll all see each other again." He tapped Rebecca gently on the hip and the wagon moved toward the curtain being opened by Esme.

"Wait a minute!" Emmett sped over and Esme quickly pulled the curtain back. Before she did, Emmett caught a glimpse of the sun streaked street. He may have even felt a breeze lick his cheek. Other than that, he felt nothing. "I forgot to give you something."

Emmett held his Blunderbuss pistol out to Carlisle. "I asked Jasper earlier if he would mind if I lent you this. He thought it was a capital idea."

"Capital idea!" Jasper echoed from inside the carriage.

"Just don't shoot any vampires with it." Emmett smiled sheepishly as Carlisle reached down to accept the gift. "It just makes them angry."

* * *

Michael was scared. He could tell that they aimed to obtain his book one way or another and his mind frantically scrambled to find a solution that would deliver him, and it, safely from their ambush.

"Why are you so interested in my book?" Michael asked, stalling. With the sun racing up, time was a luxury he could not afford.

"Because it's my book," Osiris replied, matter-of-factly.

Michael was floored. "I did not steal this from you."

"I know," Osiris chuckled. "But now you will give it back to me."

"Of course," Michael replied, not sure if he believed the vampire's claim. The top of the pyramid was getting mighty warm. "I'll be right down."

"Not you," Horus declared flatly. "Just the book."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Let me ask you a question, Michael," Osiris stated. "Have you read anything in the book?"

Michael saw no reason to lie. "I have, but not much."

"No one may read from the book," Horus shouted.

"I'm sorry, but it was an accident," Michael pleaded, walking forward and down the shiny slope. "Please forgive me."

"It's not about forgiveness." Osiris was emotionless, as usual. "It's about rules."

Michael frowned. The sun was rapidly taking away his options. "Listen, you cannot realistically enforce my sacrifice, so why don't you let me pass and I'll gladly tell you what I have learned so far."

"How dare you!" Horus wailed. "You would repeat what you've read!"

Michael was utterly exhausted but prepared himself for the run of his life. He was not going to be commandeered by these people. And they did not deserve the book.

His one advantage was that he was over three hundred feet above them. He walked several more steps down then turned and took off at a dead run. He jumped from the top of the pyramid while the stunned onlookers gaped at his audacity. His arc took him right to the edge of the sunlight and, for a moment, his hair looked like it was on fire.

The others ran after him but were not as practiced as Michael, who had learned the proper balance for a sprint in the desert while they wrote on the walls. Two of them fell down while moving fast and created geysers of sand to treat the air. The other two, Osiris and a fellow who called himself Anubis_,_ were behind him and trying to catch up.

Michael's plan was to circle back and enter the big pyramid before the sun exposed the desert floor. Already his mouth was dry and his eyes were burning so he dashed for the nearby Menkaure Pyramid instead. It was very big and Michael had explored it often enough to allow himself a smile as he zoomed inside, well ahead of the others.

The interiors of all pyramids were mostly solid rock but many diagonal passageways sprouted like upside-down tree roots. The slanted corridors led directly towards different constellations in the night sky and often opened into grand foyers, before closing into little more than air-shafts.

At first glance, there were not a lot of places to hide but all tombs held another layer to those willing and able to get to them. Within the inevitable irregularities of the enormous structure existed dozens of tiny passages and cramped ducts. Some were only accessible by fully exploring others and, even then, by trusting in unknown drops and blind exploration.

Michael wiggled his way to a spot that required both knowledge and determination.

His target was a loft, cut in above a vent. It was located almost all the way at the top of the shaft and was not visible until a person was on the way back down. He would be safe there…if he could make it there safely.

Michael moved quickly, knowing that he had very little time before they would hear his progress. He was fortunate that the first two waited in the entryway for their clumsy counterparts to catch up before they went deeper into the structure.

He was able to get most of the way to his hiding spot but, as soon as he heard them enter the complex, he stopped and stood like a statue.

From then on, he only moved when he heard them speaking to each other because even the brush of his robes against the stone walls would be a dead giveaway.

It took him ten minutes of cautious movements to complete the rest of his journey and when he nestled himself into the stone cradle, he instantly felt sleepy.

He listened, but heard only fragments and echoes. He tried to convince himself that one would have to make plenty of noise to get to him and that he would have the advantage of surprise if it came to being discovered.

But he fell asleep, cursing himself for doing so.

* * *

"We are going to be late young lady." Esme said as she stood in the lobby with her hands on her hips. Jacob instantly understood where Rosalie got the gesture.

"Oh Mother please," Rosalie smiled. She knew they had plenty of time. "I needed a bath." She was walking in from the lounge and Emmett was behind her, carrying her two bags. At the mention of the word bath, he froze, but recovered quickly.

Edward and Bella arrived in the elevator, seeping down the wall like a drip of paint.

They looked happy.

They looked guilty.

Jacob took the bags from Emmett and moved towards the door. He put them with the two others he had collected. "We will miss you at the Captain's table," Jacob smiled at Bella.

"We'll miss you at the first show," she replied.

"Oh, are you going to put on a play right away?" Esme asked, excited.

"We weren't going to," Edward answered. "But it's the perfect cover if people start showing up. Emmett, here, is going to be our stage manager."

"Edward and Jasper came up with the plan last night," Emmett elaborated. "All we have to do is decide which play to produce. We were thinking of making it a Shakespeare play, something with a big cast."

"You should choose a comedy," Esme advised. "People in New York could use a good laugh."

"What do you think about _The Tempest?_" Bella was curious.

"Indulgent and overly emotional," she replied quickly. "I love it."

"On that note," Jacob interjected. "Why don't we get going before things here become indulgent and overly emotional." He was suddenly filled with so much love for them all that it threatened to leak out in great wet drops.

Bella ran up and hugged him. That simply made things worse.

"We won't forget your grandfather clock, Edward," Rosalie promised as she embraced him.

"Oh, thanks." He had forgotten.

Jacob and Emmett shook hands. "My room is yours now," Jacob declared. "Stick close to Bella."

"I will."

Emmett ended up face to face with Rosalie and the two hugged warmly. He gave her an extra squeeze, careful not to harm her fragile body, and smelled her gently before he reluctantly let go.

The door to the street was cautiously opened but, even facing East, the dark entrance showed only shadow. Still, Jacob and the two humans left as quickly as they could with their bags and waved from the cab as they passed the lounge's windows and their friends.

"What's _The Tempest_ about?" Emmett asked when they all put their hands down.

* * *

At the harbor, the _La Touraine_ owned the sky. It was also a circus of activity orchestrated by a dock master and an officer of the ship. Captain Caussin was on the bridge, looking for them with his binoculars.

When they crossed the walkway, Jacob was told to leave the bags with two porters who had been directed to escort the trio to their suites. They were, as promised, located on either side of the Captain's cabin.

"Cutting it close aren't you?" the Captain chided as he met them in the hall. "I thought I'd be playing cribbage alone."

"Nice to see you again, Captain," Esme curtsied and stretched out her hand, hovering for his grasp.

He obliged and treated her to a tickle of his course whiskers as he kissed her fingers. "And what trouble did to you manage to fall into over here?"

Rosalie diverted his attention effortlessly. "I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours."

"Hello, Miss Cullen! I hope we'll get to share another dance."

"I brought my partner with me this time," she said, putting her arm around Jacob.

"So you have." The Captain shook Jacob's hand so hard that he thought another boat must have hit them in the harbor. "Well, we're getting underway, I'll see you all at dinner then?"

"See you there," Jacob called to the already departing man.

"This is going to be very relaxing," Esme predicted before entering her port side room. "I can tell."

Rosalie slipped under Jacob's arm. "I hope it's not too relaxing," she responded quietly, while looking up into his big brown eyes.

* * *

Michael was awakened by something moving beneath him. It was Horus. He passed by and did not notice the alcove or the man inside it. He had already assumed the vent was clear since he could see all the way out to the bright blue sky but he was curious. He climbed just a bit higher for a rare treat - a daytime view of Giza.

Michael followed.

He mirrored the man's movements and already decided what to do when Horus turned around.

They both crawled on their hands and knees and, as Horus got close to the opening, he slowed down.

It was well into the afternoon and they had been looking for the old thief, Michael, all day long. He was tired. He was thirsty. Most of all, he was bored. A peek into the human world was a seldom had experience.

He craned his neck until he finally saw the neighboring pyramids gleaming like ice and felt the hot, yet fresh, breeze on his face. He was still a few feet away from the small hooded opening, but the air was sticking to his skin and biting his flesh like a scorpion.

When he turned to leave, he was met with two tough and scarred feet to his face. Horus shouted in pain and rage as he tumbled backwards. His hand flew into the sunlight and he howled as he quickly pulled his red fingers back inside and turned to face his attacker.

Michael was there again with a vicious kick to the nose. He was crab-walking up the shaft and he locked his elbows into the stones after each step so that the superior strength of his foe was rendered useless when he finally pushed back.

He struck several blows and, with each one, he scooted Horus back a little further up the vent. When the sun was scratching his back, Horus sang with agony and lunged downward.

Michael could hear the other three calling to Horus for directions and, with some effort, got both feet up on the writhing man's chest

He pushed out with all his might.

At first nothing happened, Horus had dug his fingers into the sides of the wall and his arms were shaking with the strain of resisting the reinforced attack. Then his eyes widened and he disappeared up and out of the hole.

Michael could tell by the vampire's diminished screams that he was skidding down the face of the pyramid and that he was dead before he hit the bottom.

Horus' cohorts heard the disturbing cries and frantically began squeezing closer, calling his name. Michael used that opportunity to scurry back to his hiding place.

Within minutes, the clear voice of Osiris filled the narrow passage. "Horus? Are you here?"

Osiris could see that the vent was clear, if not smooth, but was drawn to the tiny jewel of blue light at the far end.

He began crawling up the shaft, curious.

Four minutes later, a second screaming, burning body came tumbling down the side of the gleaming pyramid. By that evening, there were four piles of ash for the wind to claim and mix with the desert sand.

Michael was free.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, I have decided to publish the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. It is merely a reference tool.**

**Please consider participating in the Fa****ndom Fights The Flood campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Bella Voce has been nominated for a Cosplay Queen Award (for Best Period Piece), a Magical Moniker Award (a nice nod for Big Spoon/Little Spoon) and a Coven Empress Award (for Best Vampire-Centered Fic) in the 'Walk of Fame' Awards. I was surprised to learn I have also been nominated for the Maestro Award (for Most Musically Inclined Author). Thank you to the person who nominated the story (and me). Voting ends January 31. In the meantime, you can look through all the categories and select your favorites:**

**twinklingswfa(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Six.**

**MOG**


	6. Chapter 6: A Fairweather Friend

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer gets all the credit for Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear gets all the credit for re-DONK-ulous. (I'm not proud.)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Six:**

**A Fairweather Friend**

It was raining in Philadelphia, the dense drops making musical plunks as they struck the city of Jasper's birth. The windows of the carriage were streaked with chilly rivulets of water. Alice was watching them swell and bend to gravity's will.

She was worried about Carlisle, who had been soaked since White Horse. Jasper kept telling her that a little rain wouldn't hurt him but as soon as they stopped at a hotel, she insisted that he go inside while she and Jasper tended to the horses. Carlisle took her up on her offer and also took his bag so he could change clothes.

When Jasper and Alice entered the building from the stable, Carlisle was dry and enjoying a warm broth imposed upon him by a heavy bosomed and heavy hearted caretaker.

The couple booked a room for the night to keep up appearances, but when Carlisle went to bed at nine o'clock, they left arm-in-arm looking for signs of vampire life.

As they walked the wet streets, Jasper explained to Alice more about his own particular gifts than he ever had before.

"There are magnetic fields all over the planet," he told her. "It's what birds and insects follow when they migrate. People and animals generate these fields as well and I can see them." He lowered his voice. "With vampires the field is exaggerated."

"So you can literally spot vampires from across the street," Alice stated.

"That's right." He turned his head to follow a man walking a dog. "And I just did."

They spoke to a total of three vampires in Philadelphia that night and learned a few interesting and helpful things. Mainly, they learned there was a growing vampire population in the South and it was beginning to cause territorial problems. There were also rumors floating around the vampire community that pig blood was comparable to human blood.

Lastly, they were informed that while humans were generally revered, there were vampire sects in the deep South that had less tolerant views of what they called the weaker race.

By the time the sun was forcing blades of grass to stretch to the sky the following morning, Jasper and Alice were packed and sitting in the carriage. Carlisle appeared a few moments later, full from breakfast and happy to see that the horses were well cared for at the livery.

"You've got a nice burg here, Jasper," Carlisle said as he hoisted himself up onto the whip's bench. "Next stop, Baltimore." They rolled out into the bright reflective street a moment later.

Carlisle imagined that he was driving over hot coals.

* * *

Bella and Edward were alone.

Emmett had gone out for the evening after the three of them went for a stroll that ended with the death of a remorseless arsonist.

They also fed from a member of a gang called the Grey Feathers. The man had been kind enough to walk right up to Edward and demand a toll for crossing through their section of town. When Edward politely refused, the scoundrel threw a punch wrapped around a dull knife blade.

Emmett picked the man up by his ear while he was still wondering where his intended target disappeared to.

The last thing he saw was Emmett's wide mouth.

The last thing he heard was, "You missed."

When they returned to the theatre, they were saddened by how easy it was to find wickedness on the streets and it was noted by Bella that the convenience was not worth that knowledge.

As Emmett left he assured the couple (who had already been clinging to each other with anticipation) that he would be out for a few hours attempting to befriend some night owls in the newspaper business.

He had spent the day discussing the details of producing _The Tempest_ with Bella and Edward up in their room. They were expecting Michael to return and each one of them had been caught looking down on Eighth Avenue from the couple's east facing residence.

It was decided that Bella would produce, Edward would direct and Emmett would stage manage.

More specifically, Bella would put up the money, assist with set design and seek out anything that would serve as costumes from the many nearby garment sources. In addition to directing, Edward would pursue his clever ideas for set design. The play began with a shipwreck, which would be tricky, but the rest of it took place on an island. Bella was pleased that he had elegant and easy solutions for both.

Emmett would be the stage manager and run the show once the curtain went up. He would also be the show's promoter.

Hence the newspaper business.

Hence, Bella and Edward had been left alone.

She instructed Edward to go up into the tower and play something simple. "Something you might only need one hand for," were her parting words before she ducked into her washroom.

* * *

When French Pope Clement V moved The Holy See of the Roman Catholic Church moved to Avignon, France in 1309, Michael went to see what it looked like. He had only been out of Egypt for a year and he had spent most of that time back in Scotland.

It was an incredibly prosperous time for the Papacy which led many, including Martin Luther, to label the era as the Babylonian Captivity. Michael mostly stayed away from the Church even though it pained him to do so.

He had a new calling.

He had decided to prepare for the future. This meant strengthening his mind and amassing wealth to ensure his comfort and security for the next time he attempted to read from the book.

He accomplished both of those things quickly by choosing his victims based on the valuables they might be carrying. As a result, he was quite comfortable by the time Pope Clement V excommunicated Venice and all its population.

It did not sit well with Michael that his book had left off with a remark about serpents, but there was nothing he could do except wait. He decided to wait for one hundred years, reasoning that since the pages had become harder and harder to read, he would have to wait twice as long to get just as far.

Simply thinking about it made him sigh.

Taking air into his lungs still felt normal even though he had now lived longer as a vampire than he had as human. He had stopped praying altogether and began looking for clues about the existence of magic books.

He was living in the age of discovery and by the time he attended the massive new year's celebration for the year 1400, he had re-read the first thirty-four pages a thousand times.

The words were tattooed on his brain but he liked the sensation of easily uncovering something for a change. Every time he reached the unseen portion, he would stare into the page and wonder what it held.

Perhaps it was the shouts in the street, or the fact that had seen his second turn-of-the-century as a vampire, but Michael felt that ringing in the fifteenth century with a good book would be a fitting gesture.

He had a nice home for the time. Located a mile south of town, it was made up of three rooms, two of which were completely cut off from daylight. He sold vegetables for amusement but mostly because it gave him a reason to travel up and down the roads.

He did not have his vegetable cart with him the night of the new years celebration and fed from two separate people on his way home. Truthfully, he did not even need one person that night but Michael had grown greedy and the second man had a cloak that he greatly admired. He put it on and picked a few bright flowers to match it.

He could not remember the last time he felt remorse for taking a human life. The only thing that mattered was the book. After putting the flowers in a vase and starting a fire that would take the rest of the night to burn, he retrieved it from a well hidden spot.

His mental exercises for the last century had consisted of formulating a method to use his presumed strength to drive straight through the sand, not stopping until he uncovered the next verse.

He saw immediately that it would work only if he dove in completely and fully committed to the mental journey. He did so without hesitation and was exhilarated at the first test of his new strength. He streamed through the grainy white secret sand like he was in a current. He felt himself going off course once and wondered what would happen to him if he became lost.

He achieved his goal in a vertigo inducing pace that made his stomach bounce. He thundered downward and it was easier than his wildest dreams would have ever allowed.

He read all the words then turned to go back.

That was when things went wrong.

His entire plan was a disaster.

* * *

Edward was keen to develop new associations with the _Moonlight Sonata_ and played a piece of that, but he was restless and began toiling with original progressions. He watched as some of the violet sound waves spiraled in front of him while more powerful ones erupted from the square grand like it was a fountain.

He kept the music simple, like Bella suggested, and looked straight up at the stippled ceiling. The sound waves created a purple vortex there as those waves swirled before being flung in a pinwheel of sonic twilight.

He heard Bella enter Jacob's room below him and felt an immediate stirring in his trousers. He scooted the stool in.

Bella had taken off every stitch of clothing and walked up the stairs listening to the music as it brushed past her naked body. She pulled the piano stool out with one hand and slipped onto his lap in one fluid movement. She crossed her ankles behind him and buried her face in his neck.

Edward moaned with pleasure and started playing again. He could feel her round breasts pressing into his bicep as he slowly moved from one note to the other and watched as the spirals licked her bare back.

Bella rested her head on Edward's shoulder and allowed him to rock her as the melody shifted his hands. She could feel that he was greatly aroused and it was beginning to become uncomfortable for them both.

Her solution was as simple as it was shocking and Edward watched every minute of it with wild-eyed pleasure.

Bella dropped to her knees to position herself between his legs and unbuttoned his pants. They were complicated to the point of becoming asinine and the tension building up in Edward was positively maddening.

When she had succeeded, she freed a stiff and smooth promise for a night to remember. Bella gripped him with both hands and devoured it with her eyes first before slowly working her lips down to her hands.

Edward stopped playing abruptly and held onto the piano like it was a life ring. Bella reached one hand under his shirt and ran her fingers across his stomach while she turned his hard flesh shiny with her eager mouth and her determined tongue.

She placed both her hands on his thighs and began to move with a practiced pace designed to achieve results fast. Edward slowed her with a finger to the chin. He led her eyes to his and took a moment to enjoy the new vision of her smiling at him from behind his engorged and slick salutation.

"Would you like to play something now?" he asked with a grin.

Bella rose slowly, reminding Edward of their new elevator. He took in her curves and shadows and could not resist touching her hip as she turned around. She looked west as she contemplated the appropriate piece to play. The sky was dark all the way to the ground but she could see that people in New Jersey stayed up late.

She sat down slowly, allowing Edward to guide himself into her waiting velvet clutch. He did so with great care, and to their mutual benefit, as he filled her until his dark curls tickled her behind.

She began to play a French Suite by Bach. It was a six part baroque in C minor, a musical courtship.

As Bella's fingers brought the first movement of _Allemande _to life, Edward was lifting her very slowly by the hips. The delicious feel of her body was surrounding him, squeezing him.

He slid one hand around to her silky stomach and she gladly remained seated while he traced his fingers on her back and played with the brown spills of hair that assisted his gentle caress.

He traced an invisible picture on her cool skin. It felt to Bella like it was a face but Edward informed her it was a flower.

Her eyes were almost watering with the constant sensation of him so completely and deeply filling her but she smiled devilishly, assuming that he knew what was coming next.

_Courante._

Bach's second movement was rather peppy and Bella kept time by wiggling her small behind to and fro. Edward was hypnotized by her strong yet sensual movements, and was impressed with her performance.

She was lost in her own universe of pleasure as she rapidly worked herself up and down on him. The horizon hid behind the window sill.

It was enough to make Edward cry out in astonishment and joy. It was more than enough to make Bella lose focus. She repeated a few measures while she remembered the next progression, only prolonging Edward's panicked pleasure. He was not going to last.

Edward put a hand on her hip while there was still time to slow down and moaned her name as a warning but she only picked up the tempo with renewed force as she instructed him.

"Do it, Edward." Her voice was raspy. "I want you to." He had never heard her talk that way before. "I want to feel it." Then she said something he was not expecting. "Please, Edward." Her head was swimming with a new eroticism. He had never realized how the things she said and how she said them could influence him so much.

_Courante_ was a short piece, but by the time she had finished, so had he.

Bella felt the rush of joy and played _Sarabande _with Edward's head resting on her back.

"You smudged your picture," she teased him with a look that sent her hair cascading across his closed eyes.

She shivered as Edward touched up his imaginary masterpiece, painting on her smooth small back while she played through _Air _and_ Menuett, _the two shortest movements in the danse. His touch was as soft as the whiskers of a cat.

She could feel him shy away inside her and was careful not to squirm around as she played the final movement, the emotional but strong, _Gigue. _Bella swept her hands across the keys with expert understanding and the notes that poured from the instrument were warm and wonderful, and to Edward, a bright plum colored pool.

When she was done playing, she stood up and turned to embrace him. She stroked his hair as she held him to her chest and, when he looked up at her, she whispered.

"Let's go outside."

* * *

Baltimore was a very green city, even at night. It was stunning really, and easily the largest seaport on the Atlantic they had seen.

Another thing hauntingly beautiful about Baltimore was its cemeteries. One in particular was located in the heart of town, with gates reminiscent of a castle, complete with turrets and two squatty towers on either side of the impressively tall Gothic arch.

Within was a garden of monuments, making it seem more like a museum than a graveyard. Since they arrived well before sundown, Carlisle drove Alice and Jasper all over town before he made the decision to push on to Washington D.C.

Halfway there, Alice and Jasper became desperate for fresh air on their faces and joined him. The two doctors had already discussed pig blood at length and Carlisle had some astounding facts that made the rumors plausible. They spent one dollar and thirty cents discussing the matter with their friends that night when they made their second call from the road.

They all loved the capital city and got a late start the next morning because Carlisle wanted to drive past some landmarks. Jasper and Alice had been all over the district the night before and had discovered that nearly all politicians were, in fact, vampires.

The Washington Monument was certainly impressive but when one comes from Paris, the home of the Eiffel tower, it was just white…and smaller.

Carlisle was enjoying himself immensely. The solitude was a rarity and he found that it suited him. Jasper and Alice would occasionally chit chat through the ventilation shafts but mostly they slept.

And made love.

They liked to make love in that carriage and were not the first couple to do so. Carlisle was oblivious to their escapades but sometimes the carriage did mysteriously pull to the side or shudder without the precursor of hitting a pothole.

When they did speak to Carlisle through the tubes that Rosalie had designed to bring fresh air into the coach, they really had to yell to be heard over the horses' leisurely gait. Carlisle was, of course, encouraged to speak normally because they had no trouble hearing everything he said.

They spent the next week traveling through Virginia. Their introduction to the state was Front Royal, where they met a man wearing an eye patch and a woman with bright red hair. After that, they went to Harrisonburg and enjoyed a nice bottle of ale and little else.

Lexington was easily Alice's favorite town thus far but the men enjoyed Cave Spring and explored every inch of the seventeen mile system that wandered through the low mountains of the Mother State. They met many vampires that day. Some of them eyed Carlisle like he was a turkey leg.

Blacksburg was a smart little town, as was Snowville. Taking advantage of the night air, Alice rode outside with Carlisle as they approached their last stop in that state, Marion.

She was a pleasant passenger and traveling companion but had been impatient to reach their first property.

"How come we passed through three states in the first three days but have been in Virginia for seven nights in a row?"

"Territories here get bigger as you move West," he answered with a shrug.

"Can we take over at night while you sleep in the coach?" Alice wanted to speed things along.

"And kill Jacob's horses in the process? No, thank you." Carlisle liked Alice. She was a fearless little imp with a heart as big as the very state they were in and he wanted her to feel better. "We're making pretty good time, Alice. Heck, we average ninety miles a day."

"We should have sent Bella," she joked. "She would have been in Louisiana by now."

They both heard Jasper laughing inside the carriage.

They had not been able to call New York since leaving the East Coast and were anxious to hear about what happened with Emmett's experiment. They had not run across any vampires since the day after leaving Lexington and being on the simple but fairly smooth road was a reflective time for all of them.

The air was rich with new fragrance and the nightingale birds that monitored their progress from nearby apple trees sang only for the wild moon's approval.

* * *

Michael chuckled darkly at the newly discovered words in the book as he lay seemingly down against them.

_**Decades**_

_**then**_

_**sped by**_

_**in a**_

_**blink**_

He felt like he was at the bottom of a well filled with sand. He had gotten down to the words easily but, when he tried to come back up, it felt like the weight of the world collapsed down on his head.

He could no longer sense the real world around him. He could not feel the chair he knew he was sitting in. He could not feel the book he knew was holding.

The book he found himself trapped in.

Michael tried not to panic but felt like he was suffocating. He attempted his previous technique of creating multiple hands to dig with and saw some encouraging results. So he kept clawing his way, presumably, to the top.

He was aware of time passing and, for what felt like hours, it was a bleak existence. He fought with all his might and all his new strength but it was, literally, an uphill battle. He would never have thought it possible that he could get trapped outside of himself but, when it happened, Michael was thinking something worse - that he was trapped inside himself.

Hours turned into what felt like days, going two steps forward, one step back. Michael had been on the brink of letting go and sinking forever into the depths of the book and wondered at that moment if he was alone in its pages.

Had it claimed other minds? Were there remnants of them within?

He never stopped digging, he could not. He would slip back down and that was far too frightening to allow.

His quicksand prison beckoned as he scrambled upward and Michael did something he had not done since moving to Avignon.

He prayed.

Michael reached up with invisible hands to clear away invisible sands and asked God to reach down and pull him from invisible lands.

He pleaded but felt no connection. Worse yet, there was no immediate salvation. He then cursed God to no avail and wound up laughing then crying as he strained keep up with the living avalanche.

Abruptly, Michael's eyes fluttered open.

He looked around at the room he was sitting in. He immediately noticed that the fire had burned out.

He also noticed that flowers in the vase were dead.

Michael had spent over a week trapped in the book and if it were not for his age and practice he never would have escaped. It seemed like such a shame because diving in like he had was something he could have done even in his first few days as a vampire.

Michael suddenly had an idea.

A horrible, yet wonderful idea.

* * *

Jacob was the perfect escort for two traveling women. He toured the ship day after day with a Cullen on each arm and a grin as big as the ship's propeller. He ate tremendous meals, again at the Captain's table. At night, he held Rosalie in his arms after they made love.

When the ship rocked her to sleep, Jacob sank into his mind. As Edward had once observed, Jacob's mind was visualized as a colossal mountain with mine shafts cut into all sides of it. Mine cars sat on rails that disappeared into darkened tunnels but Jacob always pictured himself outside in the sunlight.

He did not like spending time in the mine shafts but, after his experience with Michael, he wanted to see his mother. Jacob had no memories of nursing, something he would need to remember if Michael tried such a deception again. He did remember entire afternoons spent with both her and his father when they harvested the fruit from the family orchard or sat on the banks of a nearby creek and took turns pulling small salty fish up onto the grass.

In his mind's eye, Jacob looked down at his huge, bare, brown feet and saw that it was the same grass from his memory of those days out fishing. He went down to one of the oldest tunnels, past one that was completely boarded up, and climbed into the cart.

Jacob had learned to entertain himself after centuries of inner thought and made elaborate and exciting rides for himself whenever possible. He whizzed by many side tracks and tunnels that led to whole sections dedicated to keeping Leah's memory alive.

He had not visited that part of himself in a long time.

He felt no guilt and he knew that his section for Rosalie was going to require a large amount of real estate. Perhaps even a whole new mountain.

He chose a memory. It was raining and the three of them had to hurry back to their house. Jacob's parents held onto each other and hunched over him as they ran across the farm. He remembered looking up at them, they were looking at each other and smiling. This was fun for them and he knew that it was a special moment.

It remained one of his very favorites. He actually shared it along with many more memories with Rosalie and Esme over several long breakfasts on the eastbound voyage. He had no idea when he started telling them his tales that they would both become so overly concerned with his casual revelation that he did not sleep.

Rosalie was genuinely embarrassed to learn that he was awake during all her hours sleeping next to him. Jacob understood completely. Leah had been very sensitive as well. Jacob hoped that Rosalie and Esme would help one another understand his perspective.

"Why do you even go to bed, Jacob?" Rosalie huffed.

"Oh I benefit from rest. Well, my body does anyway." Jacob smirked in spite of himself. "I just remain conscious that's all. I can't help it."

"You should get up and do something." Rosalie had her arms crossed.

Jacob smiled. He would try a different tactic his second time through this conversation. "I will do that if you want me to, Rosalie. However, I prefer to remain with you." He spoke earnestly.

"I think that's sweet dear," Esme said while placing her hand on his.

Rosalie gave her mother a rueful look, a look that Esme mocked. It made them both laugh and Rosalie softened.

"Don't you go mad from it?"

Jacob nodded. "That's why it's so important for me to cultivate those memories I was trying to tell you about. The ones of my parents are over three hundred years old and they are all I've got."

The conversation was carried over several morning meals at sea but never at dinner where anyone could accidentally overhear something. Both women were armed with new questions and Jacob gladly answered them.

Although he did not feel that he was holding anything back, Jacob never told them about how he visualized his world or how Edward had once taken a ride in one of his mine cars.

They suffered through a storm their fifth day out that teetered the boat often and made that evening's dinner an exercise in passing back the gravy.

Esme missed Carlisle and it was nice for Rosalie to repay her mother's kindness concerning sympathy for an absentee love. She could still recall Esme's comforting words when they first steamed into New York Harbor and she had been the one missing her mate.

* * *

Bella entered the rooftop garden while holding Edward's hand. They stopped briefly in their room so Edward could put his clothes with hers, on the floor, and escort her out wearing nothing but the breeze.

They walked to the chess board first, wanting to get a better look at the marble pieces Jacob had described to them. Bella noticed that a blue pawn had been moved two squares out, as if a game was started but not completed. She moved it back into place with ease but not without commenting to Edward that they were heavy.

Unable to resist the urge, Edward picked up a nearby white bishop and raised his eyebrows approvingly at the statue's heft.

Afterwards, they strolled to the gazebo which was tucked away right in the middle of the full landscape. Edward backed Bella up against it and kissed her…hard. They tugged each other's lips with playful teeth and locked eyes often.

"I am so in love with you," Edward's mouth was barely touching hers, "and I will never love another."

"I feel the same, Edward." She could not help but think of the last, and only, time they were naked in the woods together. They were pretending to be angels to set Jacob free. "We're perfect together."

Bella reclaimed his hand and they continued their first full tour of their new garden. The couple found a stone birdbath near the southwest corner. It was hideous but they both fell in love with it immediately. It was a stone monkey with two huge outstretched palms, cupped and filled with moon kissed water.

They strolled north along the west side of the building. The edge was just tall enough for Bella to trace her fingertips along. They could see the electric city below them, bubbling with life.

When they reached the northwest corner they found a swinging bench hanging from a redwood frame. The warm evening made the bench equally warm to sit upon. The naked couple faced in the direction of the long set sun and looked down onto the city that could not look back.

They sat in strips of moonlight that snuck past the swing's support and Edward directed the sway with his bare foot on the soft planted grass. They could see that there was a storm to the southwest, right where Jasper, Alice and Carlisle were headed.

"They should be calling any time now," Edward observed, always knowing what was on her mind.

"Did we leave the garden door open?" Bella wondered aloud.

Edward laughed freely and pushed the swing back with extra gusto. "Did you see the size of the bells on that telephone?" He watched as the swing made the horizon warble. "I bet Emmett will hear it wherever he is."

"Do you think it was alright for us to let him go out alone?" Bella knew that she would never get away with such a request but was not annoyed. She understood their need to feel like they were protecting her but she was perfectly capable...

"We are protecting you," Edward reminded her of two things with his statement. "We had no choice with Emmett. He is his own man and can go out as he pleases."

"I could always make him want to stay?" Bella suggested.

"Then we would never be alone." Edward pointed out the obvious.

Bella thought about that. "Good point." She reached her hand behind his strong neck and pulled him into another kiss that did not end until he was on his knees in front of her open legs.

Bella slouched on the swing and raised both legs as Edward pulled the suspended beauty to his once again sturdy instrument. He opened her with a confident nudge and pushed all the way inside her with a firm, consistent motion.

Bella was peering up at the starlit sky and the tree branches that investigated it as she was pulled into bliss over and over again. She saw into the Milky Way as it hovered above them and concentrated on Edward's firm insertion that was producing a wave of ecstasy through her body.

Edward was a god against the sky. His muscles flexed as he held the swing and Bella called his name several times before he slowed down.

But he was not done with her yet.

He slowly pulled his length out of her quivering junction and allowed her to put her feet on the grass while he lowered his lips to exhilarated pink flesh. He was bold and probing and Bella grasped his hair with both hands while he worked. It was not long before her feet were off the grass again as her legs wrapped around his head like a turban. She arched her body and her hair draped over the back of the swing as she once again regarded the stars.

Edward loved being so close to her. He brushed his cheeks against the tender skin of her inner thighs and opened his eyes to look at the smooth plain of her stomach beyond a forest of soft curls. Her belly button was a dimple that held a tiny shadow in reserve.

Bella could hear New York buzzing below them. It was nearly midnight yet the streets were as busy as if it were noon. They were also exposed to the West but Bella felt all alone that night with Edward.

She let the late June breeze lick her chest while letting Edward lick the rest.

Edward waited for her to lift her head, he was nothing if not safety conscious, then let go of the swing in favor of her rosy behind. He scooped her up and deposited her swiftly but gently on the grass in front of the swing. When she looked up at him, the Milky Way was his halo.

"Well hello there, Gabriel," she teased. "It is you."

Edward did not understand exactly what she meant, nor did he bother to ask. He merely kissed her again, pressing her into the grass. They were intertwined, melted into one another.

When they finally broke apart, they were on their sides.

"Are you ready to go in?" Edward asked her, misreading a shiver.

"In a minute," she replied. Bella was looking into his pine green eyes and considering a bath.

"A bath does sound nice," Edward mused.

There was no hurry in getting up, however, and both were content to doze for a short time.

That was until the phone in the corner room rang. Edward was right, it was remarkably loud and they both sat up. She challenged him to a race with only a wink and then they were both streaking across the rooftop forest.

City angels.

* * *

_**Changing**_

_**the way**_

_**condemned**_

_**people**_

_**think**_

It only took Michael a month to get to the second half of the verse that he had been imprisoned with for the first week of the year 1400.

Michael was so starved that he left his house at once in search of sweet, bitter blood. He took the smelly dead flowers with him and flung them in the road. He was blind with hunger and when he came across two children, usually spared, he pounced upon them and even kicked their bodies when he had not gotten enough blood.

He had become the demon he had feared so long ago but the worst part was that he wondered why he had not just accepted his fate sooner and saved himself a lot of trouble.

He fed on three more people before he felt satisfied and then sought out a new friend. His name was Claude. Down on his luck, Claude volunteered to be given a dark but wonderful gift.

Michael fed him blood from a self-imposed wound that healed before the lad woke up.

Michael had seen the procedure done in Egypt and was quite enlightened by it. For one thing, he finally understood how he lost that whole first day in Catania. He had been asleep. He also learned that his blood possessed the power to create more of his kind.

Michael was patient with Claude. He was there for the boy when he woke up, waiting with a bowl of what could have been mistaken for soup. The liquid was even warm. For a few days Michael kept him fed and sheltered and told him all about an amazing adventure he would soon take to become a powerful vampire like him.

He prepared his newly sired protégé for the fact that it would feel like he was digging through sand but then further explained that he would have to dive through it with all his might. That he would have to swim through it.

Michael told him that quitting meant death.

When the day arrived, Michael was overanxious to test out his new system of retrieval but he worried that he and Claude would not be able to communicate once the young vampire went down into the next page of the book. He did not recall hearing any noises himself when he was submerged but assumed that it was because he took great precautions to ensure that he would not be disturbed…precautions he took once again before producing the book and handing it to Claude only a week after his transformation. Claude's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something but Michael interrupted.

"Open it."

Claude did as he was told and unfolded the soft red leather to the first page. He looked up at Michael with a mixture of confusion and something else. Something Michael did not recognize.

Shame.

"Now I want you to look at that blank page and pretend that there is a layer of sand on it that you have to mentally brush aside."

Claude shook his head sadly. "I can't."

"Just try it." Michael did not want to spook the lad. "It's easy for a strong vampire to do."

Claude took a deep breath and looked down at the page while Michael chuckled silently.

"A-ha!" Claude had easily seen the picture and was relieved. "I see three circles."

"Yes! Yes!" Michael cheered. "Good job. Now hand it back to me."

Michael took great care to turn eighteen pages and when he handed the book back to Claude he told him to focus on the page to the right. He then instructed him to gather his strength and picture himself diving into the grainy white page.

"It will be much deeper," Michael explained to him, "but you must keep going."

"I will."

"Listen for my voice and keep talking," Michael added.

"I will."

"Go!"

Claude immediately began describing a sensation of falling through sand, but confirmed and complained that he had to push with everything he had. Michael encouraged the progress and kept his subject talking all the way to the bottom.

"I'm here!" Claude cried after a grueling ordeal that Michael feared was going to be too much for the boy. "I'm here! It is heavy, Monsieur!" He had a funny quality to his voice when he was down there, like he was talking into a cup. "Monsieur, what is this?"

"Read it to me." Michael was insistent.

"But I cannot read English, Monsieur."

Had Michael been more specific, or allowed Claude to speak earlier, they both might have been saved a considerable setback. Michael had to go all the way into Avignon to recruit another volunteer. Claude would die.

By the time Michael put a pick into the top of his head, Claude was screaming in agony as the weight of the sand imposed itself upon his supposedly crushing bones.

Michael studied him for a moment before he swung. He wanted to know how much time he would have once he found someone who was not an uneducated peasant. It seemed like the subject would be able to read a verse but the weight of the sand was tremendous and he would have to better prepare them.

It was when Claude began to pray that Michael ended his final thought with a deft swing.

"You don't need to pray to God." Michael spat at the gurgling corpse. "I am God."

Michael screened his victims well over the next several months. He also rejoined the Church knowing that it would afford him far more power as a vampire than it ever did as a human.

People's trust in God and all things godly would serve his purpose. Churches held all the books and if he were going to find people who could read the language, he would find them there.

Better yet, he could teach them there. The church was ripe with orphans and their absence would always be accepted as truancy.

He invited several fools who could read English over to his house in those mid-century years. He would confirm a variety of mental and physical traits before welcoming them to dinner on a whim and with no one to hear the sudden invitation.

Once there, Michael would proposition them, showing off various stupendous feats and concocting a story about God's New World Disciples that got most of them to take "communion." The ones who refused or wanted to sleep on the matter were summarily killed and drained of their blood and valuables.

He burned the bodies.

It was neither an art nor a science and it usually took Michael two attempts before he could find someone who could get through one page.

Since one page only displayed one half of a verse it would sometimes take four lives to recite one full rhyme. Michael wanted to feel badly about that but could not muster the energy.

After all, Michael uncovered more pages. They further explained what happened to the race described in the book after their prisoners were forced to face their society's biggest taboo - the moon.

The verse, "_Decades then went by in a blink, changing the way condemned people think_," was very compelling to Michael and he felt like the prisoners he heard about.

He did not consider the people he imprisoned. They were there to feed him. Twice.

_**Repeat**_

_**offenders**_

_**grew cold**_

_**and**_

_**strong**_

Read in 1346 by a traveling gentleman from England, he had become a vampire the summer before and was easy to spot for someone as observant and as desperate as Michael.

_**And they**_

_**worshiped**_

_**the moon**_

_**all night**_

_**long**_

The passage took three people to read, the first two got stuck diving down and when they refused to keep going, Michael killed them before they resurfaced from the book's desert clutches. As far as the poem went, Michael was curious to learn that the moon, once feared, was eventually revered as if that was all one had. It took him until 1359 to have it fully recited.

_**Then when**_

_**they found**_

_**they could**_

_**jump**_

_**the well**_

Michael convinced a painter to accept the dark gift in the year 1366 and the gentleman read his verse with an Italian accent.

_**They were**_

_**careful**_

_**about who**_

_**they**_

_**could tell**_

By 1382, two men were claiming to be Pope. Michael knew a losing battle when he saw one and joined the Western Schism in Rome where he found many people willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. He would disguise himself once again as a holy man.

It was in those Roman years that Michael learned about the beginnings of a war.

_**Some **_

_**were**_

_**let out**_

_**only to**_

_**learn**_

Read in 1390 by a fellow priest whom Michael did not like much. He had to stay with Michael for several months because the words had become harder and harder to get to and making the attempt took some conditioning. Michael did not mind becoming even closer to the man first because, in the end, he did get the satisfaction of driving a spike through his ear and twisting savagely.

_**That they**_

_**would**_

_**desperately**_

_**want to**_

_**return**_

Read in 1404 by a Sicilian who reminded Michael of his father.

_**Soon groups**_

_**of people**_

_**were caught**_

_**sneaking**_

_**out**_

Read in 1409 by a wealthy politician who was enamored with the idea of immortality.

_**Escaping**_

_**their towns**_

_**with an**_

_**underground**_

_**route**_

Read in 1412 by an Englishman who came looking for adventure.

_**But seeking**_

_**the moon**_

_**was a**_

_**great**_

_**crime**_

Read in 1421 after Michael moved to a new home he had built. He was still robbing his nightly victims for their blood and their valuables and was easily the richest man he was aware of. His new home was extremely modest and gave nothing away yet provided his students with more privacy as they were staying for longer and longer periods of time.

_**And they**_

_**were thrown**_

_**into wells**_

_**every last**_

_**time**_

Michael had once again become a popular priest. He was giving communion, baptizing babies and conducting weddings, all while snaring promising young minds and trapping them in the book.

Each page became harder and harder for them to dive through and, by the 1430's, he had to train his new subjects for over a year before they were strong enough to take on the quicksand.

_**When they**_

_**fought back**_

_**it was a**_

_**gruesome **_

_**sight**_

Read in 1433 by a brash young Frenchman who tried to steal the book from Michael and was almost killed outright, but Michael did not want to waste all the time he had put into him so he was offered another chance.

_**The attack**_

_**of course**_

_**had been**_

_**planned**_

_**for night**_

Read in 1445 by another Frenchman who had become a good friend, so good in fact that Michael felt bad when he cut the man's head off with a Roman soldier's sword he inherited the month before.

_**The**_

_**insurrection**_

_**was**_

_**well**_

_**rehearsed**_

Read also in 1445 by a dark skinned magician who taught Michael many tricks before leaving this Earth. The three men lived together for several decades as vampires before the relationships were severed.

_**And they**_

_**went after**_

_**the big**_

_**city**_

_**first.**_

As Constantinople fell to the Turks in 1453, Michael was grooming several vampires at a time and, after a decade of preparation, would inform them of a special mission that they and they alone had to undertake.

When Louis XII was crowned king of France in 1461, the mere act of diving down through the sand was a condemnation, as it nearly killed intelligent and prepared vampires before they could get to the point where Michael would kill them. After Vlad the Impaler of Wallachia was killed in 1476 by Turkish forces, Michael had to wait until a vampire had doubled his strength to even attempt a reading and that meant as much as fifty years.

He went from church to church, assisting with their libraries and keeping mostly to himself.

By the time Bella was born in 1522, Michael had only uncovered a quarter of the book.

He was growing frustrated with the idea of having to incubate vampires because he would have to wait until they were eighty or ninety years old to make the journey into the book. His many hands method had gotten him far, his shortcut method had gotten him farther, but now it seemed like a long life without answers.

He went to England hoping to meet someone special.

* * *

Bella and Edward were standing naked in the room that served as the theatre's only private hub. Housing doors in each corner, it sat on the fourth floor as indicated by the elevator that was at rest between the tower door and Bella's bedroom.

They were leaning over the colossal telephone mounted on the other side of the tower door, listening to Alice tell them about how wet it was in Philadelphia.

Alice added that the city was beautiful, then giggled a bit too much when she commented on how comfortable the carriage was to sleep in.

Bella and Edward promised to have Emmett there for the next evening's call. They also settled on a time of just before nine o'clock because the phone banks were usually closed after that and they would not be able to ring an operator.

When they said their goodbyes, the lovers dressed and went into Jacob's study. He had believed his old friend, Bella, would be jealous of his books and he was most certainly right. She thumbed through American authors like Mark Twain, Henry James and Emily Dickinson, wondering which would attract her first.

There was a knock on the door and they both knew who it was.

Edward and Bella went downstairs together and opened the lobby door for him. He had been knocking on the door with the Eiffel tower depicted at midnight.

Michael asked politely to enter the theatre and was invited in.

He stopped almost immediately, his gaze transfixed on the lobby floor.

"A message from Riley." Bella's tone was cool. "Or was it a message from you?"

Michael said nothing.

"Either way," Bella continued, "it was meant to remind us that we keep company with easily squashed insects."

"Yes, you do," Michael agreed quietly, "but so did I."

"Is this your doing or not?" Edward needed answers and asking the question almost always gave him his wish, even if the person he asked did not say a word...just like that moment.

"No, it is not." Michael shook his head. "This is why Riley came home brooding and bruised." He did not pose it as a question, merely stated it as fact. "You spared his life.

"As you spared the lives of my entire family," Edward reminded him.

"Then we have established trust."

Michael smiled.

Edward did not.

"I will help you, Michael," Bella answered his lingering question without being prodded. "But I must know that you have no intention of interfering with my theatre or those who attend shows here."

"And that includes our family," Edward added for good measure.

"I give you my word. I wish you only happiness in New York." He believed every word he spoke. Edward was certain of that.

"I can't understand how you would need my help with any translation though," she admitted. "You taught me everything I know."

"Not everything," he told her reaching into his coat pocket. "I hope to change all that."

Michael pulled a book out of his jacket that Bella recognized. It was the red book with the black tendrils that had so frightened her as a human.

She was not exactly pleased to see it.

"Do you remember asking me about this book?" Michael was watching her closely.

"Yes," Bella said automatically.

"Do you remember what I called it?"

"You called it Brutte Parole and you said that you would never trouble me with it."

"I know I did my dear child." Michael appeared sad. He resigned himself to the inevitable conclusion.

"But no one else is strong enough anymore."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I would like to begin by recognizing those people in the Philippines who have been reading this week. They have made their country my second biggest readership. (A title formerly held by Canada.)**

**Special thanks to amymorgan for her help in choosing the music that Bella played for Edward. **

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, I have decided to publish the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. It is merely a reference tool.**

**Please consider participating in the Fa****ndom Fights The Flood campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Bella Voce has been nominated for an Essence Award (Best Dazzled Moment) in the Shimmer Awards. Thank you to the person who nominated the story. Voting is now open and winners will be announced on February 20. In the meantime, you can look through all the categories and select your favorites:**

**shimmerawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Seven: Quicksand.**

**MOG**


	7. Chapter 7: Quicksand

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer listened to Muse while she wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear listened to R.E.M. while writing this chapter, just to prove to a certain Mr. McCarty that they haven't lost their touch.**

**(While simultaneously acknowledging that Shiny Happy People was indeed a crime against humanity, an act of moral turpitude if you will.)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven:**

**Quicksand**

The moon kept its appointment with New York, the city Michael called Hong Kong on the Hudson. Moonlight spread into the lounge that sat just off of the theatre's lobby in the second floor of the tower. Three vampires were peering out the windows of the rounded room as they spoke to each other's reflections.

Michael continued his story, explaining to Bella and Edward that the book was very difficult to read. He told them how it took enormous time and effort to get through a single page. He also described the barrier of white sand to them and allowed each to brush it away from the first page.

"What are these symbols?" Bella asked. She was still uneasy about the book but having it in her hand, it felt small and harmless.

"I believe that it's the earth, the sun and the moon," Michael was instantly taken back to a time when he knew Bella as a child, asking questions in the Elsebridge library. "Turn the page."

Bella did so and began brushing the imaginary, but strangely tangible, substance from the page. "This is the story of a foolish race," she read aloud.

"Yes, they were," Michael added, "but they were more than foolish. They were careless." He had no doubt that she would be able to read the first page, or even the first hundred pages, but he was further than that and things required a more strategic approach.

Edward heard his thoughts and did not like the sound of them. "Why do you need Bella?" Edward asked. "Aren't you also strong? Aren't you stronger?"

"I am fantastically strong my dear boy," Michael looked down, "but I am unfocused and the book requires singleness of thought."

"How far have you gotten?" Bella wanted to know.

"I'm close to the end," Michael whispered, "so very close."

"What's next then?" Edward was uncomfortable. Michael's mind was a riot of barely controlled emotion that ranged from elation to grief. Edward understood that he was sincere and really only cared about the book, but there was something he was missing.

"This is enough for now," Michael concluded. "I will invite you over for dinner this week, maybe even the 4th of July, if you are inclined. We will discuss the details then."

"Are you inviting Edward as well?" Bella's voice was sweet, but her eyes were waiting to pounce.

"Of course." Michael turned to Edward. "You will be most welcome. And all your friends as well. That darling but impetuous girl..."

"Alice," Bella supplied.

"...The narrow lad who swooped in by her side..."

"Jasper."

"And the thick roast cut driving the carriage."

"Emmett, and he's the only one left." Bella chose her next words carefully. "The rest left this morning with Edward's family."

Michael frowned. "Did I so offend the entire group?"

Bella was direct. "To be honest, yes, but that's not why they all left. They went to assist with the chore of packing up the house and finding a buyer for the property."

Michael nodded. "I hope things go very easily for them then."

"You are fortunate to be able to go outside," Edward observed. "I love these windows but I sometimes miss the sun."

Michael smiled and shrugged his shoulders, a relatively pedestrian gesture for such a well dressed and mature looking man. "I learned to manipulate the cells in my body a long time ago. I could appear to vanish, that was how it started. Do you remember Bella?"

"I do."

Michael blinked and suddenly two tears were racing each other down his cheeks. He wiped at them with his thumb. "I'm sorry but..." More tears and more wiping, this time with a red silk handkerchief. "...I thought I made you up Bella...I thought you weren't real...Things were bad for me after..."

"After you saved me," Bella stated quietly.

"You saved me, Bella." Michael chuckled darkly and it served to dry up his tears. "Have you discovered any special gifts?"

Bella and Edward looked at each other. "Well..." she began but trailed off.

"Oh come now, I have already shared a secret with you." Michael slowly shifted his gaze to Edward as he completed his thought. "And Riley has already informed me of your impressive speed."

"Bella is strong. She makes strong vampires," Edward stated simply.

"I'll bet she does." Michael appraised Edward. He was handsome of course, but sweet and clearly cared for Bella. But there was still so much human in him that Michael feared for the reluctant boy.

"Can you become transparent?" Michael asked her with a touch to her wrist, "I think you are about as old as I was when it started."

"No," She said softly. Edward noticed then how differently Bella acted when Michael was around. It was like she was waiting for him to give her permission to speak.

"But?" Michael prodded gently.

"I can fly." She instantly regretted telling him but he just nodded his head like he expected the revelation.

"Of course you can. You are doing what I did, only you're doing it backwards."

"What do you mean?" Bella was confused.

"I began by changing my body then learned to control the air around me and move through it. You started by manipulating the air, to carry your full weight even. You just haven't internalized what you have learned yet."

"How long did it take you?" she asked.

"A long time, Bella. It took decades before I knew that I could do more than become transparent." Michael crossed his leg and adjusted his maroon trousers. "I eventually discovered that I could isolate the parts of my body that react violently to sunlight and keep them translucent."

If Emmett or Carlisle had been there, they would have asked for specifics about the cells involved. But since Michael was conversing with two people who viewed the world with a decidedly more artistic lens, they focused on other aspects of Michael's revelation.

"What about your clothes?" Edward asked.

"Yes," Bella added, "how did you keep your suit on the other day?"

"At first, when I was solid but invisible, my clothes just clung to my body, but as I learned how to...fog, as I call it, they just fell right through me." Michael laughed sincerely. He had almost forgotten that he spent many nights naked in China as he perfected his technique.

It was at times a frightening experience: so frightening that a side effect turned out to be clarity of thought that he had not enjoyed since the day he bit into the neck of the woman who sat next to him.

He continued addressing Edward while he looked at Bella's reflected profile in his window. It looked like she was kissing him on the cheek. "Eventually, I learned to reach beyond my body and change the air around me to great purpose." He looked at Bella. "Flight, for instance. I didn't fly until the spring of 1760, but it sure changed how I moved around." He turned back to Edward. "Modesty was another welcome addition. I could now bring my clothes with me, items too. I can feel them just like I feel the teeth in my head."

"What about people?" Bella inquired. "Does it work with people?" Both men's mouths popped open like baby birds detecting a shadow overhead.

Michael's mouth closed first but it opened again quickly. "There's only one way to find out. But I'll bet I can have you walking through walls by dawn!"

Bella was more than intrigued by the possibility but wanted to take things slowly. "No thank you, Michael," she declined gently. "Not tonight anyway. Let me help you with your book and then you can give me some pointers by way of thanks."

Michael remained silent for a while.

There were no thoughts for Edward to hear, and that was frustrating as the seconds ticked by. Finally Michael looked into the eyes reflected in front of him and answered.

"That would be fine."

* * *

By the early 1500s, Michael was no longer taking the trouble to create vampires. They would not be strong enough to delve through the book's pulp desert for at least a century. Instead, he began looking for living vampires whom he could exploit. He could tell by their stillness, something humans would never even notice.

He was also heavily researching any connection to the book and accepted an offer to cultivate English churches hoping that he would be exposed to new artifacts.

His prestige once again afforded him the obedience of those who sought his counsel; therefore, he had uncovered several more pages that cost the life of an established vampire whom Michael had tricked into pushing through the thick heavy secret sand. Michael's skills as a hypnotist had not yet been developed but he was learning a great deal about suggestion and persuasion.

His convincing ways kept the story going but only if he got lucky enough to find good subjects. It was especially difficult because Michael was reaching a part in the book where a revolt was taking place within the society. They had subjected their undesirables to a life away from the worshipped sun and it changed them biologically. They escaped their subterranean prison cells and stormed the fortress city that closed at night to protect the worthy from a perceived evil moon.

In the decades before he met Bella, Michael learned many disturbing things from the book. He analyzed each passage as they became his.

_**They **_

_**climbed**_

_**the walls and **_

_**hammered**_

_**the shield**_

Read to him by a blond man in the year 1515, who came to a church looking for salvation after becoming a vampire in Russia a century before.

_**And peeled**_

_**off the**_

_**bricks till **_

_**the moon**_

_**was revealed**_

Read in1521 by one of seven vampires traveling together. Michael found them a home a fair distance from the church he was living in, and treated them like beloved children even as they disappeared, one by one.

_**And when**_

_**It broke**_

_**through the**_

_**protective**_

_**dome**_

The young Persians helped Michael get through a lot of text.

_**The fallen**_

_**had finally**_

_**reclaimed**_

_**their**_

_**home**_

The four members left in the group thought that Michael was protecting them from something wicked so they stayed.

_**But their**_

_**victory**_

_**was a**_

_**short**_

_**lived one**_

Michael was very lucky that year to get through so much of the book in such a short time, not since his first years reading did he get so much information at once. It was more than he had expected after the past century of hardships.

_**Because**_

_**of the way**_

_**they**_

_**reacted**_

_**to sun**_

Read by Michael's favorite in the group, a smart lad called Rolph.

_**And when**_

_**it came **_

_**up**_

_**the very**_

_**next day**_

Read by the wittiest of the bunch, Michael taught him several Magic tricks the night he died. He, like all the others, was approached while he was alone and out feeding. He happily followed Michael to a place where he would be told a fantastical tale that would even require his help.

_**The**_

_**moon skinned**_

_**people**_

_**burned**_

_**away**_

Read by the last of his houseguests a month after they arrived and Michael was angry all over again. There was no doubt that the book was describing people just like him. He put it out of his mind while he moved to a new Abbey in Elsebridge, close to London, and was delightfully distracted by a gifted human girl who came to the church to sing with the nuns only weeks after he arrived.

He had very little contact with the sisters because women by and large did not read however, Mother Maggie walked in just the same to introduce a thin girl she called Bella. Something she had never done before.

Michael was indifferent but polite and did notice that the small human had a keen mind. He hoped she would fit in well and gave her no more thought until he heard her sing a few days later.

Her voice was as pure as the dew that filled each spring tulip in the fields behind the church each morning. She sang with a fearless resolve that filled every corner of the large sanctuary that evening.

She was stupendous, but her Latin was atrocious.

Michael was no longer religious. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing to be more precise, but that did not mean that he should be forced to listen to an angelic voice sing the words incorrectly.

He approached the choir mistress, Sarah, the next morning. The two of them then went to Mother Maggie and it was there that Michael laid the ground work to bring Bella under his wing.

She turned out to be a vivacious and sharp witted apprentice and with only a year of instruction could take on all English paperwork, such as baptismal certificates and all changes to considerable land holdings the church had a vested interest in. This was all done in secret because most people would not like to know that the child, a girl, possessed such a dangerous education. As far as anyone else was concerned, the child dusted books and learned her letters.

This all left Michael time to procure books with possible clues on how to solve his pulp puzzle and gave him the freedom to travel to London on occasion.

He seldom came home empty-handed when he visited _The Smoke, _a popular nickname for London at the time. It was rich with decay and Michael was amazed at how dirty the vampires there let themselves get.

He promised them wealth and that was often all it took. By the time his human protégé could reach and read the French books on the higher shelves, he had been able to get through a few more pages.

_**Their **_

_**cold skin **_

_**steamed**_

_**in the bright**_

_**yellow heat**_

Read in 1535 by a Scotsman who had a knack for the job.

_**And ashes**_

_**piled up**_

_**around**_

_**their**_

_**feet**_

Read that same year by a vampire who had been alive for almost as long as Michael had. He was bored and willing to try anything. Michael thought it was a pity killing him because he might have been strong enough to get through a page deeper within the book.

_**This **_

_**made**_

_**everyone**_

_**think**_

_**at first**_

Read in 1536 by a sea captain who said that he had to stay below decks of his own ship during the day and his crew credited laziness.

_**That the**_

_**moon skin **_

_**race was**_

_**horribly**_

_**cursed**_

Read in 1537 by someone right in Elsebridge, a visiting Royal who was spotted by Michael and very keen not to have his secret revealed.

_**And many**_

_**were **_

_**tortured**_

_**just**_

_**for fun**_

Read in 1538 by a braggart in a London pub who never should have been made a vampire in the first place. Michael was doing us all a favor on that one.

_**Often**_

_**dragged**_

_**helplessly**_

_**into**_

_**the sun**_

Michael thought back to the men in the chapel in Catania and how they wanted to drag him into the sun. As a result, he was in a foul mood for over a year. Only Bella could cheer him up.

He considered showing her the book just in case her human eyes saw something differently but decided against it when he began noticing how she eyed it suspiciously every time she saw it.

One night she asked about the book when he transferred it from one pocket to another and he played along. He told her that it was written in English and when she asked what it was called, he thought of the ugly words recently read to him by smelly but ancient London vampires who would have cut off their own hands for five pounds.

He decided right then and there that his harmless, perfect human daughter should never have to suffer the unpleasantries of the vile little tome.

But then again, he never intended for her to suffer the unpleasantries of death either.

* * *

As promised, Bella and Edward had Emmett join them when the phone rang on the second night after their friends left in the carriage. They were also wearing more clothing.

Alice, like the night before, was the one who greeted them when Bella picked up the receiver. "We are in the Capital City!" she squeaked as soon as Bella offered an awkward salutation. She was not practiced with the nuances of telephone etiquette but, then again, none of them were.

"We thought you were going to Baltimore?" Bella was perplexed.

Carlisle's voice came over the line next. "We got there with hours yet till sunset so we took a lovely carriage tour. I got myself and the horses watered and we pressed on to the District of Columbia."

"We just got here," Alice told them. "But we have something to talk to you three about."

Jasper's voice was then serious as it spilled from the wall mounted box. "Bella? Have you ever fed from a pig?"

"Not this again," Bella sighed. Edward had grilled her on the subject once while they were on top of the Eiffel tower after he had been changed and then again when Emmett was changed.

"I know how crazy I sound but, please, just humor me." Jasper and Carlisle were both bending down to listen to the ear piece that Alice held out.

"We are assuming that neither Edward nor Emmett have even had an opportunity to sample it," Carlisle added.

"And why would we even bother?" Edward remarked with a smirk to Emmett. "It sounds revolting." Emmett contributed his chuckle to Edward's declaration.

"Bella?" Jasper encouraged.

"No." Bella answered Jasper's question, leaning into the large round mouthpiece. "Just a doe." She looked like she was remembering something sour. "And a rabbit."

"It was not likely that you did," Jasper responded. "We wanted to ask because we heard some interesting, almost unbelievable things about pig blood... and I don't want to go into details over the telephone...but when I mentioned it to Carlisle..."

"And I reminded him about all the pig veins medical students practiced on, including you two. Do you remember, Emmett?"

"Of course," Emmett recalled. "Almost like the real thing, especially the skin."

"Well, word is that it is an acceptable alternative to...other established avenues," Jasper continued, "and since we're on the road we don't have the time or resources to test out the theory so..."

"We were hoping one of you would try it out," Alice finished.

"I'll do it." Edward volunteered immediately.

"Me too." Emmett was up for an experiment and the risk was minimal.

"Just one of you." Carlisle interjected quickly. "We are expecting no side effects, even if it fails to work, but it would be better if we proceeded slowly with only one test subject."

"I'll do it." Emmett directed his statement to Edward and accentuated 'it' with a touch on his friend's shoulder. "I saw the perfect butcher shop on my way to the Times last night."

"Are you sure this is safe?" Bella asked. It seemed like a relatively harmless experiment but she worried that it could have the potential for hidden dangers.

Emmett scoffed at the question while the gentle murmur of Carlisle and Jasper conferring on the other end of the line buzzed from the heavy black receiver in Bella's hand.

"We think you could get an upset stomach either way," Jasper finally stated.

"Then I'll do it tonight," Emmett said. "Are you going to call tomorrow?"

Alice chirped their answer. "We will have one more night to call but then we'll be staying mostly in smaller towns."

"Then I will let you know tomorrow." Emmett was cheerful.

"Great," Jasper answered, "but don't use any more or less than usual. You should know if it works fairly soon afterwards."

"Alright."

"Have a great night everybody and be careful Emmett." Alice spoke with a mild tone of concern.

"Goodnight." Edward and Bella responded together before Bella hung up the receiver in its black cradle.

Emmett went out into the garden while Edward and Bella went into their bedroom. Within a few minutes, the restless couple went looking for him in the moon brushed rooftop wilderness.

They found him sitting on the very…familiar…redwood bench swing. Edward winked at Bella as they approached their friend who was staring out at the western skyline.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bella asked him gently.

"Yes." His voice was calm but they could see that he was actually excited.

"Do you need any money?" Bella looked expectantly at Edward, who began patting the pockets of the cigar brown suit he was wearing.

"No," Emmett answered as he pulled out several American bills, from the inner pocket of his own navy pin striped suit. "In fact, I found a fella on Sixth who bought a few of those gold coins for a bundle."

"Oh good." Edward was relieved. "I never asked Jacob to exchange money for us and you saved me a lot of trouble tonight." He held his hand out. "May I please have a few of those?"

"Absolutely!" Emmett eagerly began plucking five dollar bills from his stack.

"Slow down," Edward chuckled. "I don't need that much."

Emmett handed him fifteen dollars. "What are you doing?"

Edward turned to Bella. "Do you want to go out on the town tonight?

"That sounds perfect," she replied with a kiss.

Emmett told them about a restaurant on 49th street. "It's called Hemisphere and I always hear good music when I pass it."

"Does it have a dance floor?" Bella asked.

"It sure does."

"Then that's the place for us." Edward clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed it a little bit. "But we want to be with you when you try this new blood..."

"And we want to have the real thing standing by," Bella finished.

"I'm fine with that." Emmett stood up and started pacing. "Here's what I'll do…I'll get two more empty honey kegs from one of the public houses uptown. Then I'll fill one with pigs blood and one with human blood, and we can all meet back here at...say two o'clock?"

"Sounds good to me," Edward agreed, "but please be careful not to..."

"I get it, Edward," Emmett smiled. "You don't want any of us to accidentally kill the next Bassoon virtuoso."

Edward smiled, Bella did too. "Thank you Emmett, I appreciate it."

"Do you think this could work?" Bella asked.

"I don't know but Carlisle made some good points." Emmett looked up at the night sky. "I give it a fifty-fifty shot."

Edward was surprised that the odds were as good as they were and he stayed out in the garden with Emmett while Bella went in to ready herself for her first night out in their new city. The two men discussed Emmett's successes the night before when he went around to all the papers.

"I may buy a typewriter tonight," Emmett spoke thoughtfully as the pair of gents were making their way south from the swing to the monkey birdbath.

"Really?" Edward could hear the sound of typing often in New York City but had yet to see one of the machines used.

"Yes, I think we would benefit from writing our own advertisements."

"Can you type?" Edward supposed that Emmett might have had some exposure to the relatively new machines at the hospital in Paris.

"No, but how hard can it be?"

When the bird bath came into view, Emmett stopped. He instantly loved it because it appeared to defy physics. Compared to its hands, the stone monkey was fairly small. Both of those large hands were cupped and filled with water. The weight should have toppled the sculpture over, yet it stood, defying gravity…and ugly as sin.

"Well, look what we've got here." Emmett circled the oddity smiling.

"We found it here it last night," Edward told him. "Bella says it looks like something Jacob would like. Our working theory is that Rosalie must have gotten it for him."

Emmett pressed down on one of the hands, hard, but the monkey stayed right where he was. "I love it. Rosalie has excellent taste."

Because Edward had chosen to conceal his mind reading ability from Emmett, he had to endure the lurid thoughts of the vampire, even when they turned to his sister.

"I'm going to go get ready," Edward needed a diversion, "but I'll see you at two."

"I will be right here." Emmett was still looking at the birdbath and still thinking about Rosalie.

* * *

Michael was preparing to leave Elsebridge when a fresh outbreak of the plague swamped the church with disease. The staff was overwhelmed and the panic was palpable within mere minutes. Michael was on his way out to feed for the night but stopped when he saw that the mob had not yet reached the library.

He ran over and barricaded himself behind the heavy doors, effectively sealing himself in until the situation was under control. He knew that the library was not likely to be of much interest once it was locked. He turned around, hoping to be lucky enough find a few monks within that could tide him over.

Instead he found Bella. She was alone.

Michael looked at her and his heart broke. Bella had seen him bolt the door and she was watching him curiously. Her head was cocked to the side and her long brown hair brushed the page of an open book in front of her.

He knew that he could not outright kill the first person in a century who meant anything to him. She was worth more than that. She had to be. He had considered turning her before that night, but he liked her too much to condemn her to such a fate.

He had regained the habit of priestly gestures and crossed himself as he crossed the room to her. There were candles on her table, the only source of light in the room, and Michael blew them out even as he reached for her.

He made sure the attack was quick and relatively painless but he could not resist drinking some heavenly blood from the small cut on the back of her broken neck.

He fed her his own blood but it was mixed with tears. Michael spent the next twenty-four hours wondering how he would break the news to Bella that he had stripped her of her heartbeat.

He wandered around the library straightening things up and rearranging books as she slept fitfully on the table where he had placed her. He imagined how they would become intellectual immortals together.

Michael found wicked humor in Psalm 14 since rejoining the church. He could tell when she grew conscious and made sure he was reading it to her when her eyes first fluttered open. He wanted the words to resonate with her, even if it took centuries to do so.

_The fool hath said in his heart, "There is no God."_

_They are corrupt. They have done abominable works,_

_There is none that doeth good._

_The Lord looked down from heaven upon the children of men,_

_To see if there were any that did understand, and seek God._

_They are all gone aside, they are all together become filthy._

_There is none that doeth good, no, not one._

_Have all the workers of iniquity no knowledge?_

_Who eat up my people as they eat bread._

_There were they in great fear for God is in the generation of the righteous._

_Ye have shamed the counsel of the poor, because the Lord is his refuge._

_Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion!_

_When the Lord bringeth back the captivity of his people,_

_Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad._

When he turned around, Michael could see that she had already noticed changes in her perceptive abilities. Bella was looking at the room like she had never seen it before.

"Forgive me my child," he spoke quietly.

"Forgive you for what, Father Michael?"

"Everything."

* * *

Bella wanted to walk to the restaurant Emmett had told them about so she and Edward held hands as they walked down the front steps of the theatre and proceeded north towards 49th Street. The breath of New York, while not necessarily pleasant, was warm. June was almost behind them and the west wind was swirling trash in the street.

The smell of horses and kerosene was almost constant and it was joined by the salt in the air when the wind changed direction. The couple enjoyed the engaging sights and sounds of their new home every bit as much as the feeling of their fingers intertwined. They passed a series of dark but decorated store front windows that dazzled them. It made Edward wonder where Emmett was going to buy a typewriter so late at night.

When they reached 49th Street, they turned west and could already hear the lively music that, to Edward, bopped down the street in long yellow and orange ribbons. He stepped over them as he walked his fiancé into the large dark hall filled with limelight and cigar smoke.

The band was six members strong with a male singer that only had to get up from the bar every other song. The rhythm section was comprised of an ambitious trio, piano, stand up bass, and a trap set of drums. They were complimented by a flute, a fiddle and, of all things, a bassoon. The instrument was played like a saxophone but was shaped like an oversized clarinet.

The couple asked for and received a table near the dance floor where they enjoyed several hours of sassy music and savory wine. They danced, but not as often as they thought they would, preferring instead to enjoy each other's conversation and a better view of the sextet.

The dance floor was made of dark, scuffed wood and was big enough to accommodate the dozen couples that swirled there during any given song. When Edward took Bella out, it was for the slower songs where they could hold each other closely and weave a flowered pattern on the dance floor with their counterparts.

Bella was wearing a pale yellow dress that fell off one smooth shoulder and flirted with the pitted floor. Her hair was up but there were plenty of tendrils hanging down like dark icicles. Edward was wearing a dark gray suit with a pale yellow silk shirt that matched Bella's dress. His black cap toe shoes were as shiny as glass.

The band began to play one of Edward's current favorite songs and he swept Bella into his arms and sang to her as they danced.

_**I've just got here, through Paris, from the sunny southern shore;**_

_**I to Monte Carlo went, just to raise my winter's rent.**_

_**Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she'd never done before,**_

_**And I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent.**_

_**Yes, I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent.**_

_**As I walk along the Bois Boolong**_

_**With an independent air**_

_**You can hear the girls declare**_

_**"He must be a Millionaire."**_

_**You can hear them sigh and wish to die,**_

_**You can see them wink the other eye**_

_**At the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.**_

_**I stay indoors till after lunch, and then my daily walk**_

_**To the great Triumphal Arch is one grand triumphal march,**_

_**Observed by each observer with the keenness of a hawk,**_

_**I'm a mass of money, linen, silk and starch.**_

_**As I walk along the Bois Boolong**_

_**With an independent air**_

_**You can hear the girls declare**_

_**"He must be a Millionaire."**_

_**You can hear them sigh and wish to die,**_

_**You can see them wink the other eye**_

_**At the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.**_

Bella's delicate giggles in his ear as he sang the humorous tune tickled his ear deliciously.

They both ate, but lightly, sharing a plate of pan seared yellow fin tuna in garlic butter then draped in a thin layer of orange chili sauce. They drank Champagne, two bottles, and they especially enjoyed the flutist, who stomped his foot when he played and smiled broadly behind his instrument during rests.

When Bella complained that her feet hurt, Edward carried her home. She offered to fly them several times, but Edward politely and wisely declined, discouraging the doomed endeavor. They were both so tipsy that he feared leaving a trail of broken brick and damaged street lights leading to the theatre.

After midnight, it truly felt as if New York was at the beginning of a new day rather than the mere continuation of the last. It was one of many special traits about the city, along with its perfect strategic placement on the Atlantic Ocean and solid bedrock.

Bella and Edward felt the new day baptize them in hope for that morning's experiment. They had a few hours left so they walked to and crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Bella missed Jacob terribly in that moment, knowing that he would love the exposed engineering of the massive span.

They returned to the theatre only five minutes early and took the elevator up to the garden, where they found the door standing open.

"Right on time!" Emmett exclaimed as he ran up from the southwest corner. He had been listening for the elevator.

"Hi Emmett," Bella greeted him. "We really liked that place, Hemisphere."

"Yes, you should come with us next time," Edward added. "You were right about the music but the food alone is worth a trip back."

Emmett nodded and then led them to the southwest corner of the garden where the monkey birdbath was holding a small wooden barrel in each upturned and oversized hand. They were standing up with the corks firmly planted into the tops.

"Which is which?" Edward asked.

"You tell me." Emmett offered by sweeping his hand towards the barrels.

Edward, eyebrows raised, lifted the cork from one of the barrels and sniffed. Bella appeared at his side and also inhaled the coppery aroma of blood leaking from the top of the small round hole.

"That smells normal to me," she stated.

"Me too," Edward replaced the cork in the keg. "Is this the human blood?"

Emmett shrugged his shoulders and gestured to the other barrel.

The couple stepped over to the other barrel. Bella pulled the plug while Edward leaned forward to sniff the air. "I don't get it," he said. "Which one is which?"

Bella sniffed the air above the opening twice and put the cork back very slowly. "What does this mean, Emmett?"

Emmett was beaming. He had taken a piece of straight cut paper out of his pocket and was unfolding it. "These are drawings of two whole blood cells, that of a human and that of a pig."

"Where did you get this?" Edward asked. The drawings were simple but that was helpful. He could see already that they were nearly identical.

"I drew it." Emmett pretended to be insulted.

"Where did you get a hold of a microscope?" Bella knew that four hours earlier they all knew nothing about pig blood.

"I ran into a guy named Garrett as I was leaving," Emmett told them. "He said that he was the fellow who helped Rosalie install the glass."

"Garrett. Yes!" Bella recalled. "We heard all about him."

Edward was also nodding, instantly concerned that Garrett might be at risk by associating with them. It made sense that Rosalie would have employed the use of a microscope when she worked out the formula in those first few days of mixing elements for the theatre's glass.

"Yes, well he's a helluva of a nice guy and his shop is only one street over." Emmett used his thumb to point south. "They purchased a microscope with Ernst Abbecalculations so that meant that I could even see platelets in the blood."

"Wait," Bella said. "Are you saying that you have already collected, studied and compared the two blood types?"

Emmett handed her the paper with a grin. "See for yourself and it's even better than I hoped." He reached over and began pointing at smaller objects he had illustrated. "This is the red blood cell. It carries oxygen around the body."

"But not ours," Edward stated.

"Actually, I'm beginning to reconsider that." Emmett did not elaborate but instead moved his finger to a cluster of objects. "These rice shaped things are called platelets, they're important for a number of growth factors and they are vital to help the blood clot."

"They both look the same," Bella observed.

"That's right and even at a molecular level I could only spot notable differences in this." He put his finger on a small crude circle he had made a few calculations in. "The white blood cell. It is believed to be the force behind our immune systems."

"What's so different about their white blood cells?" Edward asked.

"The cell surface receptors aren't the same," Emmett answered, "but I don't think that will matter."

"Why is that?" Edward asked.

He and Bella had not heard Emmett talking to God in a few days but the booming voice erupted in his head, answering the question for him.

_**Because you drank your fill an hour ago but you don't want to admit it.**_

Bella was angry with Emmett instantly. She could not believe that he would be so reckless and, before Edward could stop her, she bawled him out based on nothing more than this thought.

Emmett was extremely paranoid so he accepted her outburst as a good guess. He quickly apologized but reminded them that he had been armed with microscopic proof that the theory was valid.

"That should not matter when we all agreed on a plan," Bella fumed.

"You're right. I just got excited."

"Emmett," Edward spoke with a hint of menace in his voice. "I do not like working or even living with people who break what I consider to be a promise."

"I only did it to surprise you with the good news." He looked at both of them. "It works! It tastes a little...more bland than usual but it works!"

Bella looked over at Edward whose subtle nod confirmed that Emmett really did have their best interests at heart. She knew that she should have given him the order to wait for them herself and she would not be making such mistakes in the future.

Edward nodded again, he had heard her.

"That is great news, Emmett," Bella said.

"This changes everything." Edward's eyes were wide with possibility. "Now we just need to spread the word."

The next afternoon, Emmett reported normal sleep and sensations so they all tried the new method. Emmett was correct. The taste was mild but otherwise no different.

When the phone rang that night, Emmett was waiting in the corner room to talk to the other two doctors. Their conversation lasted nearly twenty minutes, unheard of at that time, and largely excluded Bella, Edward and Alice. They did not mind, of course, and learned much from the excited medical trio.

Emmett eventually carried the barrels down to the second floor of the tower where the lounge could provide him with mixing options. He had come up with several different cocktails, including concoctions he called Ironwine, and Really Pink Champagne_._

Emmett spent most of that next week typing away on a futuristic looking _New Franklin _typewriterthat he set up on Jacob's library desk. It enticed both Edward and Bella, who each gleefully toyed with the eye popping gadget while Emmett hovered nearby ready to scold them for striking the keys too hard.

Edward picked out his script pages for the upcoming auditions. Bella, who was reading Sherlock Holmes stories in _Strand Magazine_, started writing her own fiction about the first woman to work in the New York Police Department. She was a clever and sassy lady who was only hired to answer the phone but snuck into the crime files and left notes connecting the dots for investigators.

Bella used her sister-in-law-to-be as her inspiration and she called it, _A Rose By Any Other Name._

Advertisement posters for the fireworks display scheduled to light up the sky above the Hudson River had been up since the group arrived in town. Unbelievably, Bella suggested to Edward and Emmett she host a garden party for Michael and his men to come over and watch the spectacle from their perfect view of the west.

"Do you really think that's a good idea Bella?" Emmett asked, knowing that he was on thin ice as it was but still worried.

"Yes Bella, I don't know if that is the best idea." Edward was serious but he smiled.

"I have known him for over three hundred years," she protested. "I think I can invite him to a party at my own theatre."

"You _knew_ him, over three hundred years ago Bella," Edward corrected. "There is a big difference."

"Look." She was getting heated. "You all told me to play nice and stall him, now am I going to be allowed to play my part or not?"

"Yes but…" Edward had nowhere to go, she had a good point and he and Emmett dutifully nodded their begrudging agreement in unison.

July sent rivers of warm air through the streets of Manhattan and by July 3rd, the day Jacob, Rosalie and Esme were due to arrive back in France, the auditions for _The_ _Tempest _were scheduled for the following Saturday.

Michael had accepted Bella's invitation and confirmed that about fifteen of his friends would be joining him, including Riley.

The invitation was delivered by Edward who ran up the Hudson to 110th street and back in just under five minutes, and most of that was spent waiting for Michael to meet him in the huge front courtyard where he was asked to wait.

* * *

Michael and Bella lived in the Elsebridge Cathedral for a year. The town, like so many others, was desolate - abandoned and dead. They fed on soldiers of the King's army who streamed by, sometimes in trickles and sometimes in torrents.

There was always a straggler.

Bella had listened to everything Michael said while they waited out the plague in the library. He told her that when she got outside to push her body and learn how to manage her superior skills. He told her that grace was the key to both the kill and the mastery of her speed.

He said more sensible things to her in that first month, January of 1541, than he did for the following eleven. Inside his mind, he watched it all unfold with horrified fascination. He was pleased that Bella killed sympathetically but without hesitation. She seemed to accept that if this was the way of things, then she best get used to it. She was a woman after all, and life had taught her early on that she had little power to do more than endure its difficulties.

Michael would learn many other things over the next year about how differently Bella dealt with her new life. Being female made her introspective and patient with challenges and, as a result, she applied solutions that were well reasoned and, therefore, successful.

He saw all of this through a hazy film of lunacy that buzzed in his ear and teased him ruthlessly. He almost told her the truth about the book, hoping that a woman's perspective might be all he needed to solve its mysteries, but did not trust himself to keep her best interests at heart, even though he had saved her from the plague.

Strange things started happening to him that year. He would reach for something, only to find it spring into his hand, a hand that he could make disappear. He showed Bella these abilities but, in truth, he was already dealing with an unraveling of coherent thought and did not wish to be burdened with the new gifts.

He saw that she would thrive as a vampire and would have said goodbye to her sooner but he was worried that without her, it was he who would perish.

They spent Christmas together and, by then, they both hated the sight and smell of the library. At that time especially, Michael was blessed with a rare moment of lucidity and he used it to tell Bella to take any books she wanted and to stay safe. He said that he had long desired to see the Orient and that was the only clue she ever received regarding his intentions.

He was gone a few days later and she noticed that he left his Bible behind. He was a man of great personal wealth which he had placed in several deerskin pouches that he wore on a belt.

The only book he took with him was the small red one tucked into the pocket of his robes. He had not read anything from it in many years and he was almost too crazy to care.

It took him five weeks to get to the two hundred thirty-six islands of Hong Kong and it rained every step of the way, his trek through Siam being the worst of it. Michael could have gotten there faster but he only ran for half of the night. The other half was spent either laughing or crying and for anyone who witnessed the spectacle, they did not have long to share their tale of the mad fool on the road.

Michael had hoped that time would heal him and reattach the pieces of his mind that had come loose. But, after watching Bella's expressions transition from curious to concerned by springtime, it was enough to convince him that he would never be the same again.

He tried the words out loud as he stood amidst the steep hills guarding the peninsula on the South China Sea and all its satellites.

"I will never be the same again."

It was the most lonely and helpless moment of his entire life and he wept in the damp streets of Kowloon.

"I will never be the same again." Every time he said the words, it made him cry harder but, perhaps as a punishment, he said them repeatedly.

He was being watched by an old woman who, after only a moment's hesitation, walked outside with a small teapot made of purple clay. She placed it on the ground beside the shuddering stalk of a man.

Michael heard her approach but did not turn to face her. Secretly, he hoped it was someone coming to put him out of his misery. He turned out to be right.

"Thank you," he said fifteen minutes later when he returned the teapot. The woman was easy to spot, staring at him from behind a small window with no glass and a few potted plants.

She accepted the teapot with a few words he did not understand. As he turned to leave, she cleared her throat. He turned around and saw that she was now holding a small porcelain bowl filled with blood.

He stared in disbelief but she spoke harshly and gestured for him to drink at once. He did just that. He stepped inside her cramped home and upturned the bowl into his mouth. She nodded and closed the thin door.

When he handed back the bowl, she shook her head and walked further into the house without a backward glance. Intrigued, Michael followed her to a back room that had two large rocks sitting behind the door. Inside was a small bed, some calligraphy brushes and paint, and a corked jug that she reached for and, from it, she replenished his bowl.

While Michael was drinking his second helping, sipping actually, the woman corked the bottle and sat on the bed. She waited patiently for him to finish, then took the bowl from him and put it in the other room.

When she returned, she had her hand over her heart. She crossed the room and put her hand on his chest as well. Then, she shook her head while fixing him with an icy stare. The message was clear.

_I am off limits._

Michael felt better than he had in over a year. His thoughts seemed to line up better in his head and his more disturbing thoughts floated somewhere else.

Without speaking an intelligible word to each other, they spent the next four days together. As a token on his gratitude, Michael used his considerable wealth to put her hovel into a much better state and she took him to the heavily populated Hong Kong Island to feed from humans in Sheung Wan. She also poured him two small bowls of blood each night.

Michael called her _Wūpó _because he had heard neighbors use that word often, and she did not seem to object. She called him Mèngyǎn.

One evening when the home fire had already produced bright orange coals, she sighed heavily, stood up and held out her hand. Michael did not know what to make of the gesture. He put a coin on her palm which she tossed back to him. "Túshū," she said and held out her hand again.

Michael looked at her, puzzled, but she continued to wait.

Finally, he considered one other possibility. He took out his book. "This?"

She nodded and Michael was nervous. Clutching the book protectively, he kept looking at the fire.

She laughed and took a few steps away from the heat.

Michael understood but, when he followed, he just happened to be standing between her and the fire.

Even though he could not believe what he was doing, he placed the book in her hand. She opened it and began flipping through the pages.

"Hǎo," she said as she got further and further. "Hǎo, Hǎo."

Michael watched as she stopped many pages in and frowned. She moved her hand over one page…then did it again, like she was trying to wipe something away.

Then she smiled and turned the book upside down.

To Michael's dumbfounded surprise, small white grains of sand fell from the book in a great gush.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Special thanks to amymorgan for her medical expertise. **

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, I have decided to publish the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. It is merely a reference tool.**

**Please consider participating in the Fa****ndom Fights The Flood campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**I was very surprised to learn this week that Bella Voce has been nominated for several different awards within the Fandom. Thank you to the person(s) who put the story forward for consideration. The nominations include: **

**An Essence Award (Best Dazzled Moment) in the Shimmer Awards. Voting is now open and winners will be announced on February 20. ****shimmerawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Favorite "other" Twilight character - Under 2000 reviews for Jacob; Favorite Vampires - Under 2000 reviews; and Favorite Non Canon pairing -under 2000 reviews for Jacob and Rosalie in the Inspired FanFic Awards. Voting is open until February 23. ****inspiredfanficawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**And, finally, The Vampie Awards. I received a PM on this news late yesterday and don't know exactly which category the story has been nominated. Voting opens on February 14. twificpimps(dot)com / vampawards /**

**Be sure and visit all the sites to vote for your favorites.**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Eight: Slowpoke.**

**MOG**


	8. Chapter 8: Slowpoke

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a red shirt depicting Sheldon Cooper (from The Big Bang Theory) and bright orange letters reading "Bazinga!"**

**(People give me free candy when I wear it.)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight:**

**Slowpoke**

Michael's head was swimming as he watched the fine powder pour from both pages of his blood red book like white rain. As it piled up around the woman's feet, it dissolved into smoke and carpeted the floor with wisps that sought the crack under the door.

She watched the steady falls and occasionally stuck a finger into the flow to examine the already shrinking diamond grains. She held the book out for almost a full minute before the sand abruptly stopped.

The only noise in the room was the crackle of the fire which was fading as fast as the ground mist that made the room look like London.

"Wūpó?" Michael was in awe. He did not know if she had performed some kind of magic or if he had just been so blind as to miss the obvious reason the book came wrapped in soft hide and tied with a leather cord. When she tried to give it back to him, his first instinct was to run.

When he did take it, he looked down at the pages and saw dozens of tight angry scribbles on both. He looked back up at the old woman who had gone to sit back down at the fire. She poured them both some tea.

Michael sat down next to her and stared at the first page. It had thirty six little black marks on it. The other page clearly had thirty three. He counted both sets a few times, not knowing what else to do. He looked up at the woman again and she looked back, but her face was as wooden as the spoon she stirred her tea with.

Michael considered turning out all the pages just to be done with the sand portion of the puzzle for good but, first, he had to make sure that his new friend had not just made things worse.

He sipped his tea while she took up her sewing, and as midnight brought a biting wind in through the gaps of the house, Michael gave up trying to make sense of what looked like a bunch or raisins scattered on the bottom of a picnic basket.

The two room structure had no cellar due to the occasional flooding in the area and the sunlight pierced it with long dusty shafts of light, so Michael had accepted the only safety she could offer.

It involved a shovel and her garden.

That day was Michael's fourth and final one in the ground.

He wrapped himself in a blanket and allowed the earth to again cover him, claim him. He hated the claustrophobic feel of having the very ground pressing down on his chest and face but calmed himself each morning by listening to the purifying sound of children playing in the sunshine somewhere nearby.

Once he fell asleep, he would thankfully remain unconscious. However, on that last day in the earth's clammy grasp, he grew impatient and began attempting to make himself disappear like he had with the girl in England.

It worked but, to Michael's horror, the soft dirt immediately filled the void his ghostly body left behind.

Dirt filled his heart and head quite literally with dread.

Too petrified of what would happen if he rematerialized, Michael held on to his present ghostly form, but it was a difficult feat to maintain and he knew that the sun was still a menace in the sky above him.

It took about twenty minutes to crack. Michael was going to lose control over his body and become solid so he started flailing in an attempt to reach the surface and face his fate of burning himself and the book.

Anything was better than sharing his mouth and eyes with the damp dark soil that already filled his senses.

He found that he could do no more than wave his arms and legs around like a newborn on his back and the truest terror took hold of him in that moment.

Michael's movements set him adrift and he started moving through the ground and away from the garden. His biggest fear was becoming a reality as he found the strength to hold on and was forced to consider the possibility that he would float around under ground for weeks.

He had not forgotten the week he spent mentally trapped in his book and wept as he traveled slowly all afternoon long.

Those hours made the whole last year of lunacy burn off of him like fog in the morning sun. He was stripped of everything but his will to clench to his one thread of life like a spider in a windstorm. His tear ducts burned with overworked rebellion but he did not pray.

He felt that if there was a God, humans had no real understanding of Him and vampires had even less.

By the time evening had come to the East land, Michael was still helplessly trapped in the ground and moving sideways, steadily but slowly through layers of rock and mud. He was balanced between two worlds and faring better than he expected, but that was only because he was going numb both physically and mentally.

He was thinking that it was a pity that he stopped so briefly at sanity on his way from one delirium to another when his subterranean wanderings took him into water. It was only a matter of time in Hong Kong.

Michael was only a few inches below the surface of the South China Sea and saw that it was well into the evening. He knew that water was dense, more so than dirt, but he also knew that he was only going to get further and further out to sea. This was his best chance.

Michael closed his eyes and released his grip on his altered state.

There was a pop in his ears and then he was getting to his feet in waist high surf. The book was wet but not soaked. It was deep within his robes and well protected by the leather so the exposure of saltwater to the inner pages was negligible.

At that moment, Michael was far more concerned with the fact that he had survived.

He was almost a kilometer away from where he had been buried. When he walked into the garden, Wūpó had already opened the friendly grave to find it empty. She looked puzzled when he walked into the courtyard but shrugged her shoulders and gestured to his wet clothes.

Michael responded by putting the book on the table to dry. He went to change into a set of more indigenous clothes that he had purchased but not worn yet. He had opened the book to the current two pages of interest and only the very edges of the paper were wet.

He used her sleeping room to change and he was a bit tall for the pants but otherwise looked quite handsome in his outfit. She was peering into the book when he came out and said, "Jié," under her breath.

Michael did not understand and she knew it. She felt sorry for her newly found Mèngyǎn from the start. It just seemed like common sense to dump the sand from his book for him but, while looking down at the fresh pages, she suddenly recognized what the scribbles were.

She went to her sewing basket and produced a few strands of thread that she had bitten off. They all had one thing in common, they were tied in knots.

Michael understood the point and looked down at the book with new perspective. They were knots. She had done it again. He wanted to examine them immediately but had to find a place to sleep the next day first.

He did not know where he was going, or if he would even be back that way so he gave Wūpó a generous severance package of gems he had been holding onto since his early days in Avignon. She gave him two more bowls of the cool dark blood that seemed to flow endlessly from her magic jug.

The next one hundred years in China took Michael to new highs and lows. But he got through more of the book and that was all he cared about anymore.

* * *

Paris was a welcoming sight for Esme and Rosalie, who had not seen the city in over half a year. Jacob had not only gotten them a ride from Le Havre but he did not even have to drive the horses. They shared a coach with a man who had been sent for by the Banque de Franceand was happy to have the company on the long journey.

Esme was in good spirits even though her cheeks were wind-burned. Jacob chatted pleasantly with the chap from Manhattan whom he had seen around the ship.

"The name's David Abercrombie," he introduced himself. "I'm in the excursion wear business."

"Excursion wear you say?" Jacob was always interested in trends. "How's business?"

"Booming!" he answered. "Positively booming! We just opened up shop in New York but I want to tap into the European market."

"Smart plan," Jacob responded.

"It's too bad we'll be missing the fireworks display in New York tonight," David said. "It's a sight to see. Last year they shot off over a hundred rockets."

When they reached Paris, the carriage driver first dropped off Mr. Abercrombie downtown first then took the Cullens home, earning a handsome tip.

The house looked splendid. Jacob was glad that they had freshened it up before finding out that Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie were not on the ship and it was still dust free two weeks later.

The kitchen really did not have much in, it but Esme was friendly with the neighbors and so within the hour was serving biscuits with cinnamon, turnips in broth with potatoes, radishes and carrots and blackberry cobbler.

It was a welcome meal after long ride and early dinners always tasted better.

They ate in the kitchen like the Cullens usually did at breakfast time. Jacob remembered bringing Rosalie, and Edward, flowers in that very room just over a year before. Esme always put on extra bacon when she saw him coming.

Rosalie was thinking of what needed to get packed for shipping and what needed to be assessed for sale. She knew that most of the big items were staying but there were plenty of exceptions, including the Grandfather clock passed down to Edward the Christmas before and at least a dozen paintings.

Esme was looking at the empty chair across from her. Her husband was off searching for vampires in a foreign country and it hit her that she may never see him again.

She and Carlisle had raised their children in that house together.

"I don't know if I can do this," she said quietly. She had done enough crying in that house to know what her wails sounded like echoing off its walls. It was a haunting tune she did not want to hear repeated.

"Do you mean sell the house?" Rosalie was remarkably perceptive.

"Leave Paris." Esme confessed as she shrank down in her seat.

Jacob remained quiet, except for his chewing.

Rosalie tossed a hand into the air. "You can do whatever you want now, Mother. You and Papa are rich."

"As are you," Esme pointed out.

Jacob blushed. He could probably purchase his own ocean liner but did not make a fuss about it. Bella had been paying him more than the ransom for a king and his mistress.

"All I am saying is that you don't have to make any decisions right now." Rosalie touched Esme's hand. She had wept with her mother as they scrubbed Edward's blood out of the wooden floor in the parlor. A floor that was later destroyed along with the piano when Edward came face to face with the instrument that he had last seen wet with his own blood.

Jacob held his passive face but he was crestfallen. He had been hoping that they could conclude their business in short order.

"I just wish I knew if he was alright," Esme said drearily but Rosalie was happy to see that at least she said it through a dainty bite of biscuit.

"I see you haven't lost your appetite," Rosalie observed.

Esme gasped. "Rosalie Lillian! Have some compassion!"

Rosalie looked at her mother like she was a well-loved doll. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I only wanted to point out that even your body knows that life goes on. You can only do what is right for you."

"Well hold on a minute Rosalie," Jacob interjected. He liked where Rosalie was going and wanted to take it a step further. "I think she can do what's right for both of them as long as she knows what Carlisle's true wishes would be if the worst did happen to him."

Rosalie nodded near head enthusiastically. "You're right, I didn't think of it that way."

Esme ate several spoonfuls of stew as she thought about what they had said. Jacob emptied his bowl and ate two biscuits, but in single bites. The cinnamon had caramelized and stuck to the roof of his mouth both times.

"He would want me to be with you kids," she spoke at last. She sounded sure of her answer and, best of all, relieved.

They finished dinner and made plans to walk to the old Theatre to look for Laurent but Jacob was concerned with the hefty stroll. Both women scoffed.

"New York turns you into a walker," Esme told him.

It was twilight when they walked toward the Seine River and across the Pont Neuf to the theatre. The surface of the water was a reflection of the pink sky that hovered above the whole city. The girls were extremely happy to see their favorite boutiques again and plans were altered to include some shopping the next day.

Laurent came to the door wrapped in a bed sheet and with eyes as big as his Chinese drum cymbals. "Jacob!...Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine." Jacob reassured him with a firm handshake. "You remember Rosalie, of course."

"Hello again, Rosalie." Laurent glided his hand from Jacob's to hers.

"Hello, Laurent. Good to see you. May I present my mother, Esme Cullen."

Laurent took both her hands and nearly lost his singular garment. "Won't you all please come inside?"

They all stepped into the lobby and Jacob explained that he had returned to collect the last of their personal belongings. He did not elaborate, except to say that it would take them an entire day to complete the job and that Bella would be leaving Laurent with a few thousand francs to help him run the theatre.

Laurent was speechless. He had moved into the building to save money and was weighing his very limited choices about how to produce a show.

He offered them coffee and Jacob was very surprised to see that he led them upstairs to the attic space that had once been his own room.

"I thought you would prefer Bella's old room," he commented as they walked up the narrow staircase next to the light box.

"I like sleeping above ground."

Laurent had taken the room length work tables out and ended up with a large workspace of his own. Some of the colorful stuffed seats from Bella's backstage room had been brought up and sat against the wall under the slant of the room ceiling.

The potted fig tree with its circular wooden bench around its base still sat in the middle of the room. Rosalie walked right to it and a tiny suit of armor that sat on one of the branches.

"What's this?"

"Oh, that?" Jacob had forgotten all about it in his newfound happiness. "I found that to replace the jade chess piece I broke."

"Why didn't you give it to me?" She picked it up, clearly delighted.

"It wasn't right for the board and... Emmett had already made you a piece and...I just never found the right time."

"Oh," Rosalie placed the tiny masterpiece back on his fig branch. "Well, I'm sure you will."

* * *

Independence Day in Lily, Kentucky was one of the most perfect days Alice had ever experienced in her entire life.

The trio had entered the state two days before and there was something about the sweet air that she fell in love with. They stayed in the town of Wise. It was a quiet and intellectual place, much like its name.

On their way to Big Rock Gap, Carlisle bought Jasper a guitar.

They had discussed music back in Virginia and Carlisle learned that his long time friend could play. Alice went on and on about how good he was. She talked about all the different scales of music there were and how Jasper could even make even Arabian music if he wanted to.

When Carlisle spotted the brand new instrument in a shopkeeper's window from the road on July 3rd, it had a sign advertising a fifteen percent discount for the upcoming holiday. Carlisle parked the carriage, entered the store and came out with the six string a few moments later while Alice and Jasper watched from behind the protective glass.

That night he handed it to Jasper. "Write a pretty song for your pretty girl."

Early the next morning, Jasper and Alice made love in an ocean of tall bluegrass that rustled in the warm wind and tickled their naked bodies. Jasper was as gentle as the moonlight until she began to sigh and buck beneath him.

Then he took control.

They were safely tucked away inside the carriage and cuddling by the time the sun came up, but somewhere out there was a depressed area of grass so big that some passersby might have mistaken it for a crop circle, a phenomenon every spring in England since time out of mind.

Carlisle was very good to Jacob's horses and excitedly talked about a replacement bit he had found just that morning for the lead horse.

"As you know, I've been looking for this particular type of bit for a few days now." Carlisle did not mind that he looked like he was talking to himself. It kept him in contact with his two passengers who could hear even his most softly spoken observations and, more importantly, kept even the loonies away from them.

"They are both wearing Liverpool bits. It puts even pressure on the tongue and is ideal for long trips like this." Carlisle also knew not to wait for a response to every pause. "Jacob warned me that she needed a new one but I expected to find it before now." Carlisle took in the crisp morning air. He loved the look of the world at sunrise but had come to learn that the South was made for mornings. "Anyway, the fellow who told me about the shortcut with the covered bridge...oh yes, be on the lookout for a freshly painted white covered bridge over the Kentucky River. We should come across it around mid-day. It shouldn't be hard to miss. What was I saying? Oh yes, the guy who told me about that shortcut had a Liverpool bit for eight dollars. Expensive, I know, but well worth it for Rebecca here."

Jasper strummed his new guitar and by mid-morning seemed pleased with his progress on something sweet and simple.

"Is that my pretty song?" Alice asked, knowing that he had been working the same chord progression all morning, stopping only to stare at her until she felt bashful.

"It could be, but I don't know how special it will be when I'm working it out right in front of you." He seemed genuinely disappointed.

"But I love it this way, Jasper." Alice meant it. She liked it when he stared at her and then sprang his hands up to the guitar with inspiration. "I like seeing what it takes for you. And I think it's beautiful by the way."

"Really?"

"Yes, I love it so far."

"Alright. But I'm not singing any of the words for you until it's completed."

"YOU'RE SINGING TO ME?" Alice had never heard Jasper sing, not once since they'd met. They had played guitars together back in Paris but he never sang a note.

"Well, yes?" Jasper had not expected such a frenzied response and already feared that he was going to let her down.

Carlisle spotted the covered bridge just after one o'clock, and a few seconds later, a light knock came through the glass on the ceiling of the coach. They had seen it as well. Carlisle turned off the main road and made his way to what looked like a big white barn suspended above the river.

The wooden planks were old and as smooth as saddle leather but barely creaked in protest to the weight of the horses. They were all immediately emerged in cool, refreshing shade as they made their way across the swift water.

Jasper was tempted to step outside when the middle of the bridge left only two distant squares of sunlight on either end but the moment quickly passed.

The sound of the horses walking on the wooden planks along with the spoken rapids of the river below them made Carlisle smile. It was a nice moment.

They reached Lily an hour ahead of schedule but still an hour after sunset, so Jasper and Alice had already run ahead to check out the first property they had a deed to.

It was a two story home with two bedrooms upstairs and a basement that made Alice's old room in Paris look like a cigar box. The house sat on the corner of nearly four acres of unkempt cornfield with several oak and tulip trees located in the front and side yards.

The house was deserted, as far as they could tell, had not been so much as entered in the last month. They went back to find Carlisle, who was still a mile out of town. They all agreed to take possession of it that night.

"I'll stop by the bank tomorrow and see if they'll verify the deed as long as you think the basement will be sufficient for you two," Carlisle offered.

Jasper was walking beside the carriage and Alice hopped up on the bench next to the whip. "It will be fine. No windows at all." She had already adopted a subtle and feminine Kentucky drawl that made both men melt. "But we'll need to get fresh linens and some other odds and ends."

"How long should we stay?" Carlisle asked.

"I don't expect to find anybody I know here," Jasper explained. "So we should move on as soon as we're able." He was a step or two behind and looked at his reflection in the carriage door.

"What if they ask about Senna?" Alice asked Carlisle.

"I guess I'll have to improvise," he shrugged. "But maybe you two could ask around tonight and see what the townsfolk know."

"We could do that." Jasper agreed. He was next to the rear wheel that came up to his elbow.

"You better catch up, Slowpoke," Alice teased.

Jasper grabbed the back of the coach and hoisted himself up to the very top where he sat cross-legged until they arrived in town. It was hard to find a general store open at night, but it was generally easy to find the store owners who lived above their livelihood as a general rule.

They found provisions, including soap, matches, some fruits and dried goods for Carlisle and some deer jerky for Alice. Jasper introduced her to the southern staple back in Wise and she had been a fiend for it ever since.

When they pulled up to the house, Carlisle parked under a massive oak tree whose lower branches flirted with Jasper. He had reclaimed his magic carpet spot at the top of the thick glass that made up the roof of the coach but reached up and took hold of a big branch. Before Alice and Carlisle realized it, Jasper was thirty feet up and still climbing.

"I think you lost your beau," Carlisle chuckled. "You can join him if you'd like. It won't take me long to settle the horses and then I'll be out on that porch." The porch was small but had a rocking chair on it that may have once been painted white.

Jasper's voice put him about ten feet higher than before. "I found a nice spot to sit and it's big enough for both of us."

Alice rolled her eyes but stood up on the bench and grabbed a strong dark arm of the tree that was now at chest level.

"Wait a moment, Alice." Carlisle spoke as he quickly jumped off the bench. Alice watched as he opened the ornamented door and retrieved Jasper's guitar. "Take his guitar with you." He held it up and Alice grabbed it by the strap.

She slung it over her back and the strap rumpled the cotton dress she wore as it settled between her breasts. She was not much of a tree climber but the oak was generous with manageable opportunities to join Jasper in the nest.

Carlisle had to tether the horses because there was no stable or fenced area but he left them plenty of room to graze and explore. The water pump was around back and had a small rusty bucket of standing water that he used to prime the long sitting pump. He worked the handle up and down with squeaked protests that disrupted the songs of the nightingale birds, who were in fine voice that evening and were rivaling the drone and rhythm of the insects.

He carried the supplies into the house which was musty but clean. True to his word, Carlisle returned to sit on the porch, listening to the cascade of birdsong falling from the trees like leaves.

He heard a lot of music that night from his quiet spot.

"There you are." Jasper was sitting in a big star of intersecting tree branches and the resulting bowl it created was a soft leafy cradle.

"This is amazing," Alice swung herself into the nest, pulling the guitar strap over her short dark hair. "I hope the acoustics are good up here."

Jasper took the instrument with a shy smile. "The birds sound nice." There were a pair of nightingales somewhere above them and their duet was undeterred by the presence of the vampires in their tree.

He played a chord and adjusted a few tuning keys and then began to play the now familiar progression but with a performers' zeal. His strum matched the rugged beauty of their surroundings and he allowed the crickets and cicadas to set the tempo to his ballad.

Jasper's voice was raspy, not as polished as Edwards and not as rich as Jacob's, but he had a certain vulnerability that made his thoughtful poetry resonate.

_**I can find my way home in the dark**_

_**I know my persistence won't bend**_

_**When the night**_

_**Steals the light**_

_**I can find my way home in the end**_

He looked down at his hands while he played and could see that they were trembling. His voice was fairly steady but, then again, he did not stay long enough on any one note to find out if he was wrong.

Alice thought it sounded sad. Beautiful and wonderful, but sad.

_**They say, home is where the heart is**_

_**You helped me find that too**_

_**And as you know**_

_**I'll never go**_

_**Anywhere without you**_

Jasper looked up from his hands into Alice's eyes when he sang the last line of the chorus and held her gaze. He smiled bashfully when she began to wipe grateful tears away from eyes that insisted on blurring the sight of her singing lover.

_**I can find my way home in a storm**_

_**The worst that the ocean can send**_

_**When the rain**_

_**Hides my pain**_

_**I can find my way home in the end.**_

_**I can find my way home**_

Jasper's voice broke on the word pain in a heartbreaking way. When he sang the last line, he sounded very grateful that he could mean those words.

_**They say, home is where the heart is**_

_**You helped me find that too**_

_**And as you know**_

_**I'll never go**_

_**Anywhere without you**_

When he was singing the chorus again, Alice wanted to join in. She had even thought of some harmonies but she simply listened as he swallowed hard and sang the last verse. His face held an expression that told her he knew what he was talking about, and hated it.

_**I can find my way home in a war**_

_**Even if I've lost a friend**_

_**When I tire**_

_**Under fire**_

_**I can find my way home in the end**_

Alice looked straight up through the branches at a night sky that was still more blue than black as he sang the last part of the song with his eyes closed and his heart overflowing.

_**They say, home is where the heart is**_

_**You helped me find that too**_

_**And as you know**_

_**I'll never go**_

_**Anywhere without you**_

There was no silent pause when the song was over because the night was positively buzzing with life but the nightingales did allow themselves a moment to take in the evening serenade.

Alice loved the song and made Jasper sing it again so she could try out the harmonies she had picked out for the chorus. He was happy to oblige and adored the sweet addition of her light voice mixed with his.

He played it once again and Alice added a few more things he liked. By the fourth and final time through it that night, they had a pretty arrangement of the pretty song Jasper wrote for his pretty girl.

Carlisle sniffled loudly from somewhere below them.

* * *

Michael and eleven of his associates showed up at the Theatre of the Heart precisely at nine o'clock. It was explained that every one of his men who had made it onto the police force were called to duty based on the tremendous crowds expected all along the west side of Manhattan. "These gentlemen are all disinterested in the endeavor of law enforcement," Michael told them.

Riley was also present and the hosts could see that his wrists were bound by rich green ivy, a punishment for the misuse of his hands the last time he was in the building.

"Good evening, Miss Swan," he greeted quietly, earning an approving nod from his master. "I wish to apologize for my...deplorable behavior and, if you will permit me, I would like to replace your entire lobby floor with fresh marble."

Bella looked at Edward. She was not sure what to say and neither was he.

Michael stepped into the conversation. "May I suggest something from Italy?"

Riley moaned. This would wipe him out financially.

"That sounds lovely," Bella replied.

"I will have the space measured by this time tomorrow," Riley informed them before he stepped back into the small gathering of strange vampires in the lobby. Most were unfamiliar to Edward and Bella.

They were all led upstairs through the tower to the west edge of the garden, where the monkey birdbath served as dual punch bowls.

The waist high statue stood with two upturned palms and Emmett was standing between them with a ladle and a smile. He had filled each hand with a mixture of blood and alcohol.

"Good evening sirs and madam." He tipped his hat to Bella. "Please choose a wine glass and I shall pour you a delectable libation."

They could all smell the blood and eagerly lined up for their samples. It was discussed and decided that, if asked, Emmett should tell the truth about using pig blood. Since the concoctions were novelties, he could serve the recipe with a clear conscience.

It was a case of 'What they don't know, won't hurt them' if ever there was one.

Emmett used spiced rum from Brazil that he purchased in a shop on the corner of 3rd Street and Fifth Avenue and mixed it with pigs blood then floated some lime rings in the monkey's right hand. In the left, Emmett had placed Champagne, three parts, and a splash of the human blood left over from the night of Emmett's first test.

The three of them had been on a diet of pig blood for a few nights and felt no different in any way, except that they actually drank a little less and seemed to sleep better.

Everyone partook in the cocktails, including Michael, who had the champagne spirit and complimented Emmett when he accepted his second refill.

People started to break up into groups, so Edward and Bella walked around and introduced themselves to all of their party guests before the gunpowder rockets started rising up through the low fog that had settled over the New Jersey shore.

Most of Michael's associates were middle aged in appearance and under the age of two hundred. They openly told their hosts that they were the second generation of history hunters who used New York as their base of operations. Michael was their benefactor and employer.

They explained that when Michael first moved to New York and sired an army, but soon after created another group dedicated to knowledge and research. It came as no surprise that they were not among those involved with the abduction of Edward's family. They explained that they had their own wing in Michael's mansion. They had their own responsibilities to Michael and did not step outside their duties.

"I can respect that," Edward told a very large colored fellow named Boston. "But if you are indeed enlightened men, then how can you justify your treatment of people?"

"People or Humans?" Boston asked.

"Never mind." Edward grimaced. "I have my answer."

Michael strolled around the garden alone a few times and, upon seeing the chessboard again, moved the pawn back out two spaces. When he came back around to the southwest corner where Emmett was tending bar, he would refill his glass and ask the thick young man questions.

"Have you always lived in Paris until recently?"

"Yes, but I was teary for a move."

"Who in your group turned you?"

"Jasper."

"Were you scared?"

"I was unconscious."

"Did he attack you?" Michael was very good at sounding casual.

"Oh no, he saved me."

"Saved you from what?"

Emmett came so close to saying another vampire that his answer was adorned with the kind of southern accent that his friends in Kentucky might hear. "Ah.. got shot."

"Oh dear. It's a good thing Jasper found you."

"We were friends when I was human. We're both doctors."

"You are a good friend to have."

Emmett smiled, proud. "Thank you."

Near the gazebo, Edward was explaining the plot of their upcoming production to several of the so-called scholars who did not know anything about Shakespeare's _The Tempest._

Michael was clearly keeping them focused on less frivolous publications.

"Act One begins with a ship in a storm off the coast of a small island," Edward started. "On the ship are Alonso, the King of Naples, Sebastian, his brother, and Ferdinand, his son. They are all certain to die by shipwreck."

Edward spoke from inside the gazebo while his audience looked in from behind the railing. Bella was inside with him but she was standing aside and watching him tell the story.

Riley was standing near the gazebo as well, a half-full wine glass held in both hands. The ivy hung from his wrists like rosary beads.

"Then we see that on the island is a man named Prospero. He has actually created the storm to keep the ship away but his daughter, Miranda, begs him to spare the doomed men."

Bella stepped forward. Edward was quite theatrical but he needed a pretty and engaging partner to assist. "Prospero was once the Duke of Milan but was betrayed by his brother who stole his Dukedom and banished him to the island." She saw Edward beam at her interjection. "And we also meet Prospero's magic fairy, Ariel, who explains that the storm is calmed and everyone makes it to shore alive. We then learn that Prospero's brother, Antonio, is also on the ship."

Edward lowered his voice. "Before the first act is over, we are introduced to a deformed beast by the name of Caliban. He slips away before the magic fairy leads the marooned men to their house and introduces them to Prospero and Miranda."

"Ferdinand, the King's son, and Miranda fall instantly in love," Bella added as if on cue. "Her father is none too pleased."

"That's the end of Act One," Edward was excited because he knew things were going to get far more interesting. "Act Two begins the next morning when the rest of the shipwreck survivors wake up on the island. Their clothes are as fresh and dry as if they had just come from the market."

Bella had been sticking to the parts about the magic fairy so now it was her turn. "Antonio convinces Sebastian to betray his brother just like he had once done to his brother, Prospero. And the two nearly kill King Alonso in his sleep, but the fairy wakes them all up and the two men make excuses for why they have their weapons drawn."

"Meanwhile," Edward continued, "Trinculo, a jester on the ship, discovers the beast, Caliban. He and his friend, Stephano, give the beast alcohol and convince him that Stephano is more powerful than the island's presumed master, Prospero." With a flourish befitting an act break, Edward finished with, "The three of them set off to kill Prospero."

Bella stepped up again. "Act Three. Prospero has rendered himself invisible but not to escape death. He wants to spy on his daughter and Ferdinand and he gets more than he bargained for." She reached out and took Edward's hand. "The two of them express a love so profound and truly rare that Miranda's father decides to approve their love and leaves undetected."

"He changed his mind just like that?" The question belonged to a short vampire with dark gray hair and sky blue eyes that had seemed to cast light onto his face. His name was Walter and he shook Bella's hand firmly when they met a few moments earlier.

Edward laughed. "Things happen fast in Shakespeare plays."

"Things happened pretty fast in the fifteen-hundreds," Bella remarked. Her statement was met with awe.

A pale skinned man with pale green eyes asked, "Were you alive then?" His name was Caleb and he spoke in a high whisper.

"Yes," Bella declared easily. She normally did not socialize, especially with vampires, but Edward had brought out a new confidence in her. Since the party was her idea, she was determined to be a gracious and accommodating host.

"Michael turned me in 1540 to save me from the plague."

They all murmured and nodded approvingly. She had at least a hundred years on them. Only Michael was older than her and he walked up then with a comment about _The Tempest_. "Miranda and Ferdinand are said to have a love to rival Romeo and Juliet."

"Hello, Michael." Bella welcomed him to the conversation. "Would you like to finish describing Act Three?"

Michael did not even consider it. "No, thank you, but I will stay to hear you two complete the tragic tale." Edward could hear the crying was very loud in Michael's head that night. He was putting on a brave face but he was suffering greatly.

"Where was I?" Bella looked to Edward for help.

"I'd move on to Ariel," Edward suggested, he was always partial to the Midnight Fairy.

"Right. Well, the Jester and his friend, Stephano, are still on their mission to kill Prospero but the Jester begins having second thoughts when Stephano goes a bit overboard with his delusions. None of that really matters though because the little fairy shows up and leads them, and everyone else on the ship, to an illusionary banquet. The fairy then proceeds to verbally berate Antonio for his role in banishing Prospero to the island in the first place."

Bella let go of Edward's hand and hopped up to sit on the railing as she completed the scene. "Then Ariel turns to Alonso, the King of Naples, and his brother, Sebastian, and confronts them for also being involved in the plot."

"Which leads us to Act Four," Edward said.

"Act Four! How long is this play?" Boston, the big dark fellow, was already bored but a stern look from Michael sent his arms from being crossed at his chest down to his sides.

"The play has five acts and an epilogue," Edward answered, then launched back into the story. "Prospero tells Ferdinand that he freely gives his daughter's hand in marriage and then conjures a celebratory party complete with goddesses and nymphs. He has Ariel bring the crew of the shipwreck up to join them and, on the way, distracts the three murderous fiends with clothes."

"Prospero also promises to set Ariel free." Bella supplied.

"That's right he does," Edward agreed. "In fact, that is the scene that ends Act Four. You're up."

Bella spoke from the gazebo's sturdy rail. "Act Five sees the beast and his two cohorts become spellbound by Prospero. He also reprimands the men who exiled him and tells everyone that he intends to give up the use of magic. He forgives King Alonso and keeps the secret of the plot to kill him, forgiving both Sebastian and Antonio."

"Ferdinand plays chess with Miranda." Michael declared quietly, remembering his favorite scene. "The King is happy to hear about their plans for a wedding."

"Exactly," Bella smiled.

"Prospero then gives Caliban his freedom and the beast regrets following a fool," Michael continued. "They agree to sail for Milan the next morning and the fairy is also released. A happy ending."

"Not quite the end," Edward interjected. "In the epilogue, Prospero asks the audience for permission to leave the island."

"Is that so?" It was Walter again. He was quite taken with the story.

"Would you like to hear it?" Bella asked as she jumped off the railing and put her arm around Edward's waist.

"I'd love to." Walter's eyes blazed with icy excitement.

"Me too," Someone near Michael said. He was a quiet Chinese vampire. Everyone called him Yán.

Edward looked at Bella with mild trepidation upon hearing her volunteer him for a performance. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and when he opened them, he was an elderly but powerful human who spoke like he was on trial for his very life.

_"Now my charms are all o'erthrown,_

_And what strength I have's mine own,_

_Which is most faint. Now 'tis true,_

_I must be here confin'd by you,_

_Or sent to Naples. Let me not,_

_Since I have my dukedom got,_

_And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell_

_In this bare island by your spell,_

_But release me from my bands_

_With the help of your good hands._

_Gentle breath of yours my sails_

_Must fill, or else my project fails,_

_Which was to please. Now I want_

_Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,_

_And my ending is despair,_

_Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,_

_Which pierces so, that it assaults_

_Mercy itself, and frees all faults._

_As you from crimes would pardon'd be,_

_Let your indulgence set me free."_

Michael led the applause while Emmett, who had wandered over when he saw his clientele dwindle, clapped the loudest. He was thinking that if Edward could direct as well as he could act that the show would be phenomenal.

"It's almost time for the festivities to begin." Bella addressed the crowd. "Why don't we all refill our drinks and find our spots on the grass?"

The fireworks were lit from a barge sitting at about 30th Street and just inside the fog bank. It made a nice optical illusion even for the vampires, who could not see through mist any better than humans could.

The explosives lit the garden in brief yellow light as one by one the sight of the fire flowers preceded the sound of their birth. Even hardened vampires with centuries under their belts applauded the spectacle.

The displays lasted just under twelve minutes, a marathon. Michael had been fairly quiet and was standing with Bella and Edward near the swing. The rest of the party could be seen stretched along the western edge of the rooftop.

The river was a carnival of lights due to the hundred plus boats anchored in the current for that evening's entertainment. They sounded their horns and rang their bells like it was New Year's Eve.

"Thank you for inviting us today." Michael spoke in the opportune silence between flashes and pops.

"I want to be your friend, Michael," Bella offered, "but you scare me a little."

Michael and Edward both grinned at her frankness and Edward was privy to a mental correction.

_A lot._

"I cannot blame you." Michael shook his head. "I have become despicable, Bella. But I am changing."

Edward cleared his throat and Michael turned. "Forgive me, Michael, but in what ways are you changing?"

Michael was not offended by the question and Edward was surprised to hear him actually commend the boy for keeping the blade to the wheel. "I value life again, and not just my own, but everyone's."

A slow moving rocket with a squiggly white smoke trail worked its way up from the river while Edward and Bella tried not to snicker at the unintentionally funny statement.

"How many humans do you feed on a night?" Bella prodded.

"I require nearly six liters of blood a day."

"Three people," Edward said quietly, respectfully. "Would you change it if you could?"

"Would I give up blood?" Michael raised his eyebrows.

Bella touched his hand, the one holding his pink bubbly drink. "What he means is, would you drink a cup of buttermilk? Or eat a bowl of walnuts?"

Michael looked amused. "I don't like buttermilk."

"Would you drink pig blood?" Edward asked.

"Good heavens, no! That would poison us all."

They could all hear the cheers from the riverbank when the finale, three rockets fired at the same time, announced the end of the display.

* * *

**NOTES: **

**(Like a whole page of freaking notes and I apologize in advance, but please read them as a favor to me.)**

**I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Betti Gefecht for performing in and producing the song **_**Find My Way Home**_**. Betti wrote and recorded the guitar and her performance of Alice was as perfect as the nightingales in the background. (Which she also provided.) I provide the voice of Jasper and together I think we capture the scene described in the above chapter.**

**I have a direct link to Betti's website on my profile page. It also has a Blinkie designed by Betti for **_**Brutte Parole**_** and a link to another duet we did for her great story, **_**Your True Colors**_**. Go listen to them please, the music is very much a part of this story.**

**I also want to thank amymorgan once again for her assistance with my equestrian (and medical) queries. Her suggestions are littered throughout both stories and I am grateful beyond these simple words.**

**To Jennifer, Adamanta Banks and Ishouldnotbehere, I have a lot of admiration for your talents as storytellers and you have made me a better writer.**

**Seems like a big love fest…I assure you I haven't been drinking.**

**Actually, I'm stalling because I have to tell you all something. It's just that real life has reared its head and I will not be available to post next Saturday. I hope you will all return for the exciting continuation of Act One when I resume with Chapter Nine: Love Locked on Saturday, March 5****th****. I wish I could go thirty-one weeks straight through but sometimes real life must come first.**

**Please consider participating in the Fandom Fights The Floods campaign to aid those affected by the terrible flooding in Australia. I will be participating as an author and writing a one shot. If you are interested in donating to the cause, please visit the blog for this fundraiser.**

**fandomsfightthefloods(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

_**Bella Voce**_** has been nominated for several different awards within the Fandom. Thank you to the person(s) who put the story forward for consideration. The nominations include: **

**An Essence Award (Best Dazzled Moment) in the Shimmer Awards. Voting is now open and winners will be announced on February 20. shimmerawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Favorite "other" Twilight character - Under 2000 reviews for Jacob; Favorite Vampires - Under 2000 reviews; and Favorite Non Canon pairing -under 2000 reviews for Jacob and Rosalie in the Inspired FanFic Awards. Voting is open until February 23. inspiredfanficawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**And, finally, The Vampie Awards. Voting is open. twificpimps(dot)com / vampawards /**

**Be sure and visit all the sites to vote for your favorites.**

**Your pal,**

**MOG**


	9. Chapter 9: Love Locked

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a little metal box of band-aids with Jacob's shirtless image in it. (He's on the band-aids too, of course. I can put one on and make him flex.)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Nine:**

**Love Locked**

Edward froze at Michael's words. "What do you mean, poison?"

"Poison," Michael repeated. "Pig blood would kill us."

They were all stunned into silence. Finally, Edward said, "What if I told you that I have been drinking it since Friday? Bella as well, and Emmett has been on pig's blood for a week straight."

Michael's white eyebrows reminded Edward of rising clouds. He turned to Bella. "Is this true?"

"Yes," she answered. "It's working too."

"For now," Michael observed. "But you are weakening yourself."

"I don't think that's the case," Edward countered. "I have lost nothing in terms of strength."

"Young man..." Michael was not about to be contradicted after the trouble he went through to reach his own conclusion on the matter. "I assure you that it will kill you. Maybe not today, but a month from now, you won't even look like yourself."

"What makes you so sure?" Bella wanted answers.

Edward could hear that Michael was struggling with the persistent crying in his head and the explosions only made it worse. "We ran experiments in the 1640's right here in New York," he explained, "and we exhausted the issue...to death."

Emmett had been watching the fireworks from over by the monkey birdbath but heard the words pig and blood and slowly worked his way towards Bella, Edward and Michael. "Excuse me," Emmet spoke as he approached the group. "I don't know what scientific equipment you had access to in the mid sixteen hundreds, but I have examined both human and pig blood under a microscope and..."

"Please don't attempt to tell me that you have any more information than I do on the subject." Michael crossed his arms, visibly perturbed.

Many other vampires began gathering as the conversation became a debate. They were grinning like they already knew the outcome of a fixed fight.

Emmett smiled politely but stood his ground. "I am quite certain that I have much more information on the subject and, as I was saying..."

"I really don't have time to hear your ill-conceived theories. You obviously are excited but woefully unqualified to..."

"I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I AM A MEDICAL DOCTOR!" Emmett looked first at Michael and then around at the ogling vampires. "Is anyone else here a doctor?" He waited. "No? Then BE QUIET and let me SPEAK!" Emmett finished his words with his nose inches from Michael's.

Murmurs and gasps accompanied the brash young vampire's words. Most of them came from Bella and Edward.

Bella was certain that Michael would grab Emmett like he had done to her when she slapped him their first night in the city.

He surprised everybody when he took a step back and gestured gracefully for Emmett to continue. He had an odd expression on his face, bemused perhaps, and Edward could hear that he now intended to let the foolish man embarrass himself.

"I have examined both human and pig blood under a microscope and it is clear that the composition of the cells that carry oxygen to the brain have remarkably similar characteristics. I have been drinking it exclusively for a week."

Michael nodded his head, grinning. "Lawrence, will you join our conversation?" he called and a salt and pepper haired man in a dark blue suit with cream pin stripes stepped forward.

"How can I help?"

"When you led the Daniel experiments, did you test the effects of pig blood?" Michael looked directly into Emmett's eyes. He was going to prove the arrogant blowhard wrong.

Bella and Edward both heard Emmett's God voice encouraging him. Strengthening him, Edward thought that it wouldn't be the first time Emmett benefitted from what would ordinarily be considered a malady.

Lawrence began speaking, but he was nervous. His anxiety was written all over his face and broke through in his voice. "Well, our tests encompassed a wide selection of farm animals and from what we observed with sheep and bovine blood..."

"Lawrence?" Michael refocused the man. "Did you use pig blood?"

"Well, after multiple experiments, we felt that it was a clear case of deduction to rule out certain animals based on..."

Edward had a split second warning before Michael's voice shook the building, the city, the world.

"LAWRENCE! YES OR NO!"

The man could not meet Michael's eyes and answered the question with a petrified shake of his head.

"Look at me." Michael's words were soothing by comparison to his recent outburst.

Lawrence did as he was asked. "You made me look like a fool," Michael stated. "Didn't you?"

"Yes." Fat round tears slipped down both cheeks, one landed on the crying man's shiny dark brown shoes.

Michael leaned in close to Lawrence, not unlike Emmett had done to Michael only a moment before. "You will go to the Bowling Green and wait for me to come get you."

The man's face screwed up with horrid acceptance as he nodded his head. He walked away sobbing.

"What is happening?" Bella asked. "What is at the bowling green?"

"Nothing." Michael closed his eyes as he spoke.

Bella opened her mouth to say something but Edward stilled her words with a light touch to her hand. "Why don't you see our guest out?"

"Alright." Bella turned and caught up with the departing man.

Silence would have blanketed the garden but the streets below were teeming with people traveling back to their homes on the East side. The chattering below them could have been pelicans.

Michael swept his hat low as he turned back to Emmett. "I was misinformed, therefore I misspoke. If I have insulted you then I am truly sorry. I would be happy to hear about your discoveries."

"Well…" Emmett was unsure how to continue after what had just happened but he was curious about something. "Thank you, but before I forget, would you mind telling me how long your other test subjects went before you knew that animal blood was harming them?"

Michael looked up at the other vampires and some of them actually shrank back. "Someone answer him," he spoke through clenched teeth but he remained smiling.

Boston stood a head above the other scholars. He wasn't hiding anywhere so he answered. "Five days, but subjects objected to the taste and had to be forced their doses."

"Pig blood tastes about the same as human blood to me," Emmett offered, "a bit mild perhaps, but that's what the alcohol is for." He held up his glass and took a drink from his clear glass.

Edward's eyes widened for all to see upon hearing Emmett's hasty words. He received another split second warning before the garden shook with Michael's thunder.

* * *

Shanghai was red. The sky was red which made the water red and, thanks to the book, Michael even dreamt in red. There were vampires there as well, wrinkled old men who knew all the languages, even English.

Michael, still holding to memories of Egypt, did not trust them. He lived alone, away from their fortress. They engaged him when they could, however, and offered to teach him the native tongue.

Michael accepted and the first thing he learned was that Wūpó meant witch, and that Mèngyǎn meant nightmare. He laughed himself to sleep in the solid mud hut that he acquired one night with stupendous ease. The heavy blanket that blocked sunlight from coming through the door was red.

He took no chances though and immediately erected an additional barrier that ensured his safety, even if an unknown visitor should happen in. Not that Michael made many friends but, in an already crowded city, there was bound to be contact.

When he finally sat down to look at the tiny knots of ink on the pages of his book, Michael found one that would allow itself to be loosened. It turned from ink into a tiny ball of thin rope under his touch. It took over an hour to reveal a small white stone, bone perhaps, with a letter etched on it.

Michael unraveled three more letters that night and each time had to search for the knot that would allow itself to be undone next. He supposed it was better than getting a jumble of letters in no order at all. He got the letter H then E and finally, Y, before stopping to sleep for the day.

By the time he had gotten four pages of knots untied, Michael could get by on the Chinese he knew but, then again, he did not speak to many people. He went out at night and fed from the unlucky and when he returned he worked on the book.

He was used to waiting decades for a single page so he felt content with chipping away at the book a little each night. He was making progress and at the rate he set for himself he would complete the whole thing before the year 1700.

What he uncovered, or untied, in those days was the most startling peek into what was truly at the heart of the book. He also happened to be doing so at a pivotal time in Shanghai's own history.

The poem left off with prisoners, turned revolutionaries, being dragged into the sun by cruel captors. Captors who were stalked by the desperate fugitives each night.

Michael actually felt connected with the subhumans of that race after hearing that they suffered from the same condition as he did. They did not ask to become the monsters they were.

_**They were **_

_**called**_

_**Moon Skins**_

_**from that**_

_**point on**_

Michael improved his living conditions rapidly and drastically by killing a wealthy merchant and commandeering his house. He was able to hide the crime under the disguise of one of many pirate attacks that plagued the bustling but unprotected city.

_**And the**_

_**powers **_

_**that be**_

_**wanted **_

_**them gone**_

Wokou were Japanese marauders who liberally sacked Shanghai, and had been doing so since before the Ming Dynasty. Michael often climbed aboard their ships and helped himself to treasures from other conquests.

_**Hundreds**_

_**were killed**_

_**in their**_

_**prison**_

_**wells**_

Michael was talking with the local vampires about the attacks on the city and volunteered when they decided to take part in defending the coast. They would do something the _Jiajing Emperor_ could not. They would quell the pirates from the East.

_**Burned**_

_**alive **_

_**in**_

_**customized**_

_**Hells**_

They did not count on Japanese pirate vampires.

_**The ones**_

_**who**_

_**hid first**_

_**came back**_

_**to find**_

Michael found himself in a war where the soldiers on both sides were as strong as apes. He assisted with a bow and arrow, having picked up the skill in Scotland and he could often be found sabotaging hands and eyes with frightening accuracy.

_**The**_

_**genocide**_

_**of those**_

_**of **__**their **_

_**kind**_

He was so busy with his volunteer duties (he was a scout as well) that he only had a few hours a day to spend with the book. He did get around to dumping all the rest of the sand out of all future pages, however, and it was downright amazing how much came out. He alternated between untying knots and holding the book upside down. He could not believe what he was reading but, even more unbelievable, he was still dumping sand by 1551. He even went back and dumped sand from pages he had read, keeping only the first few intact as a memoir.

_**During**_

_**the day **_

_**they hid**_

_**in rock**_

_**caves**_

In 1552, the Wokou were so bold that they sailed up the Yangtze River. It was an insult. It was an outrage. Michael waited on the bottom of the shallow river with two other vampires who helped him rake the bottom of the ship as it passed. They staked the scoundrels to the deck, took back their countrymen's belongings, then set the ship ablaze. It was a small victory as the burning ship was just one of many fires in Shanghai that week.

_**And **_

_**plotted **_

_**ways **_

_**to fill enemy**_

_**graves**_

By late 1553, they were building a wall high enough to give even a vampire pause and a moat that was twenty boat lengths long. The massive project was well over four miles in length but was miraculously built in about three months. Later known as China's second great wall, it was not known that it was built almost completely by vampires who worked in complete darkness. They were not silent however, and the ghosts who built the wall are still spoken of.

_**After**_

_**sunset**_

_**Moon Skins**_

_**would**_

_**begin**_

The wall was so successful that it allowed Shanghai to prosper properly and Michael began to invest more time in the book. He had grown to hate untying the knots and there were usually between thirty and forty per page.

_**To scale**_

_**the walls**_

_**and kill**_

_**those **_

_**within**_

Michael did not blame the Moon Skins, they were turned into monsters and they only did what monsters do. He felt that these people were his legacy and that his fate was somehow intertwined with theirs.

_**They would**_

_**even take**_

_**children**_

_**into the**_

_**night**_

Children are often the ones who pay the dearest for the sins of their fathers. The lucky ones died early, before memories of family disgrace turned into rusty nightmares.

_**And **_

_**return them**_

_**changed**_

_**as if from**_

_**a bite**_

This was shocking information for Michael to read. He did not know what to make of it but he did notice that the knots were changing somehow. They were resisting him; he was certain of it.

_**Their faces**_

_**got pale**_

_**and their**_

_**eyes**_

_**turned red**_

Michael went from hearing a complete verse recited, to slowly revealing them letter by letter over ages. The work was still better than digging through the sand, and much faster, but his ability to work the knots was grinding to a halt. He was curious about the red eyes of the children in the poem. His own eyes were light blue.

_**They**_

_**looked**_

_**just like**_

_**the walking**_

_**dead**_

It was 1635 and Michael had spent the last two years mentally pulling at what felt like steel bands until he shook with the strain of it. The more he unwound, the more he had to hold back while he worked his way through the twists and turns. It was torture. At one point, he wished for the sandy barrier that once guarded the words. He assumed that it had somehow kept the letters unbound and that pouring the silt changed them somehow.

They might have been little metal spiders with their legs tied up all around them or frogs with strong fingers clamped over their mouths. Michael imagined them a million different ways but they were always living creatures.

That was the biggest change and it frightened Michael more than the sand did.

He had seen Shanghai blossom and had only one regret, that he never went back to talk to his savior witch, his Wūpó. She fed him dark blood that tasted cold and stale but gave him a second chance to be himself again. It was time, however, to do what he always did when the book stingily clung to its treasures…pack up and leave.

He decided to go further west than he ever had before, back through the Indian Sea, around the tip of Africa and across the Atlantic Ocean to New Amsterdam. The Dutch trade was brisk in China and every sailor, from Portugal to the newly settled Polynesian island of New Zealand, had been talking about the growing city.

They spoke mostly of wildlife, mainly the native tribes, and Michael became very interested. A wild population of humans was very appealing to him.

His travels were arranged by the community of vampires with whom he had helped build the wall. They respected his wishes to live apart and find his own food source, but had been saddened to hear of his decision to leave. They insisted that he take one of their own ships with loyal human crews who knew what a good secret was worth.

Three of them were planning a voyage to the Americas anyway and two more joined in once Michael had accepted the invitation. One was the leader of the group, a tall quiet vampire who had recently taken over the immortal dynasty. Despite both his human and vampire youth, he was respected, even feared by the others.

His name was Riley.

* * *

The sunrise in Paris was a brazen yellow that tickled the underside of several chubby purple clouds. Jacob began the morning by making love to Rosalie. They had chosen to sleep together in her old room and, remarkably, Esme had been unconcerned. The evening before, her meek voice had even filtered through the bedroom door.

"Would you two mind terribly if I slept in Edward's room?" She had been crying, they both heard it. "It's just so lonely in the other wing all by myself."

Jacob answered the door instantly. His randy girlfriend had not yet gotten his trousers off but when he pulled Esme into a hug her clammy face rested against his strong, smooth chest. He was kicking himself. He should have considered her feelings, but being back with Rosalie had him feeling light headed for the past week.

"Why don't you come in here and sit with us for a bit," Rosalie was sincere. Her mother had been an immeasurable help to her in New York and now she would be nothing less to her in Paris.

"No, no. I couldn't."

"Come in, Mother. We can stand at the terrace."

Rosalie slept that night spooned in front of Jacob. They were respectfully still and silent. But when the piercing morning sunlight gave every bump in the ceiling a shadow, they could smell the coffee Esme had brewing in the kitchen.

They took the sweet moment and drank it in like wine. Rosalie always felt at home in Jacob's arms and he was so very tender for such a large man.

It was a special moment for the both of them, even though it was hastened by a night of longing. They trembled together while the city woke to a passionate glimmer of dew melt.

While the couple dressed, they spoke of their friends and their search of vampires. Jacob mentioned that he believed in Jasper's ability to think their way out of any mess they might get into.

They were without a carriage, so after they had all enjoyed a cup of coffee, they walked down to where the streetcar would carry them into town.

The tasks for the day were simple in design but daunting in scope. They needed to obtain a mason carriage and a four horse team. They needed to inventory the house and start packing. And they needed to entice the Banque de France to purchase the property outright thereby saving them the trouble of selling it themselves.

"I love hot summer days that start out cold like this," Esme revealed while they were rocked gently by the street car. "We can see our breath but we can still smell yesterday's heat in the trees."

Rosalie sniffed the air and she instantly understood what her mother meant. "Like how you can tell when someone baked bread even if it's a day later."

"Right, and do you feel those occasional warmer breezes?" Esme asked but did not wait for an answer. "They smell like the country."

Jacob laughed heartily. "Country is just the smell of hay," he observed, "a lot of places in Paris smell like hay."

The street car was surprisingly smooth in comparison to a buggy ride over cobblestone and lulled a few of their fellow travelers into a relaxed state, complete with closed eyes and occasional light snores.

"No, no, there is something else in the country air," Esme said seriously. "Something heavy, wet perhaps."

"You can smell that?" Jacob asked, impressed.

"Everyone can," Rosalie declared. "It's like being near a river but that's not quite it." Both women considered the riddle.

Jacob smiled. "It's the turned soil and, depending on the time of year, the smell can make it all the way into the city."

Esme sampled the rapidly warming air as the street car glided further into the heart of Paris. "Not today."

"Not for you," Jacob said with a wink.

"What can you smell right now?" Esme wanted to know.

"What? Really?" He looked at Rosalie.

"I'm curious as well," she told him with shrugged shoulders and beautiful eyes.

"It's not a polite topic of conversation," he whispered.

"Just keep your voice low." Esme really wanted to know now. "No one can hear us over this thing."

"Alright, well…" Jacob lowered his voice to the point where his companions had to watch his lips to assist with the translation. "There's the hay and soil we were talking about, of course, and there are several smells from the machinery below us, metal... grease... electricity... and I think that the wheels rubbing on the rails has a smell too, it's not as strong when we stop."

"What else?" Esme had a feeling that he was just getting started.

Jacob stuck his head out the window like a dog and filled his nostrils with a slow inhalation of downtown air. "This is in no particular order you understand but there are strawberries... bread... flowers... butter... alcohol...gun powder... cobblestone... lots of stone." He took another slow breath in through his nose. "Horses... the river... blood... cheese... perfume... wood... tar... manure... leather." He breathed in again. "Sugar, sulfur, cigar smoke and soap. Paint, piss and the iron in the Eiffel Tower."

"Does different metal smell differently?"

"Yes, I can smell iron, steel, brass, copper and...gold."

"You can smell gold?" Rosalie asked amazed. "We should be in California, not Paris."

"Is that everything?" Esme asked Jacob.

"Heck no, but our stop is coming up."

"Just keep going until we have to get off," she urged.

Jacob took a deep breath but only to sigh. "Coffee... tea... several types of tea... potatoes... salt and pepper... brick mortar... lemons... glass... carrots... paper... mustache wax." The car was slowing down at the corner they wanted. "I can also smell every single person in this trolley. Some of them twice."

As they stepped off, Rosalie held one arm while Esme held the other. "I hope we smell alright," she giggled.

"You ladies smell like perfume, soap and sunshine," Jacob assured them.

They made their way to a bakery where they enjoyed breakfast with a distant view of the Eiffel Tower and the Champs de Mar_. _The Banque de Francewould not open for a while so the girls continued grilling Jacob.

"Can you hear extra things as well?" Esme asked, while eying her buttery croissant but not yet taking a bite.

Rosalie knew much more about the subject and took the liberty of answering for Jacob. "He can hear better than the others as well."

"Except Edward," Jacob added. "He can hear far better than anyone."

"You mean inside their heads?" Esme asked.

"Yes, that, but physical sounds as well."

"How does he not go insane?" Rosalie asked the tea spoon in her hand.

"He's strong," Jacob offered. "Just like you two."

Both women scoffed and waved his comment away with comically wild gestures.

Jacob leaned into the center of the table prompting the ladies to do the same. "Let me ask you both something. How did you not lose your minds and go running off into the night when you found out about Edward and Bella? Or me for that matter? I'd say that you both exhibited plenty of strength."

Esme looked down at her croissant. She had taken a few nibbles. "We thought he was dead." She looked at the daughter, who shared her grief. "Just seeing him alive meant believing in the impossible." She looked over at Jacob. "By the time you did your...fur thing...I figured, why not?"

Jacob's booming laugh startled a baby at the next table.

"I don't recall taking it so well," Rosalie recalled. The memory embarrassed her. "I was horrible to you, Jacob."

"But you were more upset about me hiding Edward from you," Jacob pointed out.

Rosalie's face hardened. "That's right..." She regarded him with simmering eyes. "I was!"

Jacob smiled boyishly. He realized that he should have just kept his mouth shut.

Rosalie warmed back up to him by the time they went into the bank and experienced their first, and biggest, pleasant surprise of the day. They were assigned to an upstairs officer who snapped up the property as if he already had buyers in the other room.

He made an offer of eight hundred francs and Esme shot her hand out so fast that he thought she was going to strike him. They all had a good laugh and made arrangements to occupy the property until August. The bank also agreed to send someone out later in the week to evaluate the furnishings and make an offer.

Twenty minutes later, they were back out in the morning sunshine and talking on the narrow sidewalk about how exceptionally easy the whole transaction went.

"It was as if they were waiting for us to come in," Rosalie commented.

"Just what I was thinking," Jacob added. "And they will be lucky to sell it for the eight hundred they paid."

"What could make them so eager to buy?" Rosalie asked them.

"Maybe they know something we don't," Esme speculated.

That statement got them all scratching their heads but the morning had just been given to them so Jacob wasted no time getting them all to the next stop on their rounds - a fellow engineering aficionado, who made his living building customized wagons for masons and carpenters.

His name was Paul and he was thrilled to see Jacob. Paul was an avid fan of Bella Swan and had gone to shows with his large family before even Jacob had arrived in Paris. His daughter, Julie, had even sung with Bella onstage.

He was saddened to see such an astounding singer leave his jealous earshot but celebrated her opportunities in America and poured his gratitude into a honey of a deal for his friend, Jacob, who had arranged for Julie and her classmate Beth to audition for Bella in the first place.

He had a few wagons to choose from, complete with four stunning and well-mannered horses. He charged two francs a day in rent and even offered to drive the load to the coast while they took a covered carriage. He knew the horses had to get back somehow, and since he had several business contacts in Le Havre, he could always justify a visit.

The two gentlemen shared a private word as Jacob handed over a twenty franc down payment and pumped his hand up and down like he was milking a goat.

"Just lift the gate?" Jacob asked as they walked back to the ladies.

"Yup and use the other one to secure it when you're done."

They drove the wagon from the shop and were lined up like crows on the whip's bench as Jacob took them to their third stop in town, the undertaker.

"Fancy caskets get shipped in from Austria," Jacob explained as the three of them shared the generous bench that was the wagon's only amenity. "If we're lucky, we can get them to sell us a few of the wooden crates they're packed in."

"How do you know things like this?" Rosalie asked him while shaking her head in charmed disbelief.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I have a thing for boxes."

They found three such boxes and got them all for two francs and the promise to hold two more when they came in. One would surely hold Edward's grandfather clock surrounded by clothes and Esme's favorite linens. Another one would be filled with all the art Esme wanted to bring back and the last of the three Jacob intended to fill on their way back to the house.

He parked the wagon around the side of the theatre and backed into the stable, which was a considerable feat. Laurent was waiting for them in the lobby and allowed Jacob to lead the way downstairs to Bella's old room under the stage.

When he went to the bookshelf, everyone thought he was going to start scooping books up but instead he pulled on the dark wood of the shelf itself. It swung open to reveal a fortune.

"Wow!" Rosalie exclaimed. "How much is there?"

"Enough that we are going to need someone to stay with the wagon as soon as we start hauling this stuff out."

"Let's each take an armload," Rosalie suggested, "and my mother and I will visit outside by the wagon while the two of you bring the rest out."

It was a well received plan especially by Esme, who had enough trouble with her only load. Jacob moved fast (faster when Laurent was not looking) and between the two men they had the riches, minus Laurent's seed money, packed within the hour.

They took another twenty minutes for the books and a final sweep where Jacob discovered several things he wanted to bring back to New York, including a tiny perfect suit of armor.

Jasper's bottles of blood had already been packed in boxes and Jacob loaded them on the large wagon carefully. They took up half the space.

They stopped by the markets on the way home so Esme could cook a proper meal that evening and spent the afternoon strolling around the house and segregating furniture. Nearly everything was staying but, by the time the sun was a fist sized torch setting the horizon ablaze, there was a sizable collection of odds and ends near the double front doors.

Rosalie had also insisted that they bring her heavy stone chess table in from the garden. She said that she would need it on rainy days.

They had enough books and paintings to fill the last of the coffin sized boxes. The other two were filled with Bella's fortune and the clock wrapped in linen. Jacob guessed that they would need about three more, six total, to get the job done.

Dinner was a whole roasted chicken, stuffed with cranberries and caramelized with brown sugar. There was also a big salad with Esme's own Parmesan dressing and thin braided bread loaves.

When they were done eating and cleaning up, Esme said something about a bath and a book so Jacob asked permission to take Rosalie on a stroll along the river. Esme waved them off and they promised to be back before her hair dried.

The Pont des Arts bridge spanned the Seine just west of the Ile de la Cité and the Notre Dame Cathedral. Jacob and Rosalie rode there on two of the rented horses, using two of Carlisle's saddles that they planned on bringing back with them to New York.

They took a detour at Jacob's request, past the wagon maker's shop. The place was closed but Jacob reached down and raised a small gate in front of the door and retrieved two large stable locks. One had a key in it and that was the one he carried back with him to his horse.

He used the other to lock the gate in place.

"What is that for?" Rosalie asked him.

"You'll see," he responded before nudging his horse into a trot.

When they got close to the river, a short breeze pushed Rosalie's light ribbons of hair back from her forehead and she loved the cool caress on her hairline. There were very few boats out but it was still early in the evening, rose hour, and the smooth surface of the water could have been covered with flower petals with all the pink it reflected from the lover's sky.

Jacob helped Rosalie off of her horse and tied the two animals off near the south end of the bridge where they could sample the dark grass. He then walked her to the center of the bridge where they both faced west and watched the sky darken by the minute.

"We are going to start a wonderful new life in New York," Jacob began. "But I will always remember Paris as the place we met."

He handed Rosalie the heavy lock. "I want Paris to remember us too."

She could see that the lock had something inscribed on it and had just enough light left to make the words out.

_**Jacob and Rosalie**_

_**In love forever**_

"Lock it to the bridge," Jacob instructed. Rosalie worked the key until the arm of the device swung open. She then clamped the lock onto the smooth metal railing, the only one small enough in all of Paris and took out the key.

"Throw it in," Jacob nodded toward the water.

Rosalie did as he requested and the river swallowed the tiny key without a sound.

She wondered if it would eventually get swept all the way to the ocean.

* * *

Michael stopped short of touching Emmett but the rage in his eyes was enough to force the younger vampire to take a step back as the older man stormed over to him.

"YOU...FED ME ...THE BLOOD OF A SWINE?" His voice was deafening, excruciating to Edward's ears.

Despite stepping back, Emmett was not intimidated. "I'm sorry if this comes as a shock, and I can assure you that I have..."

"You will go to the Bowling Green and wait for me to come get you," Michael commanded quietly, barely maintaining control.

Edward heard Emmett, and Emmett's God voice both agree immediately before he turned toward the theatre and disappeared in the trees.

"Michael?" Edward gently drew the man's attention. "We decided together to surprise you all with the gift of non dependence on human blood. This is a happy moment, Michael. We are free."

The old man stood still, pondering the statement. "This is an insult. That's what this is."

The other vampires watched Michael closely, waiting for something. Edward did not want to find out what. He was far out numbered and on his own.

Bella had caught up to Lawrence by the time he made it to the Corner Room and rode down with him in the elevator. He did not speak to her but he did attempt to keep up with the tears spilling over each other in a race to the ground. When they reached the lobby, he opened the door and walked out without a glance.

Bella chased after him. "Wait...please!"

"I can't." He kept walking and as he opened one of the front doors, the sound of Michael's voice came like an avalanche from above them. Lawrence flinched and whimpered before he practically ran down the front stairs.

"Where are you going?" She was on his heels.

"The Bowling Green." Lawrence turned right and began his march south down the wide sidewalk.

Bella ran up beside him and matched his pace. "When is Michael coming for you?"

It took him a long time to answer. "Never."

"I'll help you." She spoke the words in his ear like it was a secret. He laughed her off, which was a feat since he was still crying. She then turned around and walked back to the theatre.

She ran into Emmett in the lobby.

"Where are you going?" she asked as he walked straight towards her.

"The Bowling Green," he said plainly and moved past her with a rough bump.

Bella recovered quickly and ran to put herself between him and the doors.

"Do you even know where the Bowling Green is?" she asked.

He looked puzzled. "No...but I can ask around. Excuse me."

"Emmett," Bella's tone was insistent, "you are not going to that or any other park tonight."

He stopped. "I have to." He began to walk around her.

Bella put her arm across his path. "Look at me, Emmett." He did. She held his gaze and told him slowly. "I need you to stay here with me."

_**Do as she says.**_

Emmett's God voice told her what she needed to know just before he nodded his head.

"Alright, Bella. I'll stay here."

"What happened up there?"

"I told Michael about the pig blood. It just came out by accident."

"I'm glad he knows," she assured him and walked to the elevator. "But why was he so mad?"

Emmett remained silent. Bella listened for his God voice but it too was still.

When they returned to the garden, things appeared to be fine. Michael and Edward were talking with the big dark fellow and two other groups had formed.

_Are you alright? _Bella sent her thought out to Edward, who looked over at her but did not do anything to give her an answer.

Michael followed Edward's gaze but he was focused on Emmett. "What are you doing back here?"

"I live here," Emmett answered.

Bella walked forward, putting herself between Michael and Emmett. "I will not permit you to condemn Emmett."

Edward was going to ask her to explain the statement but her mind flooded his with a relay of her conversation with Lawrence.

"You promised never to harm any of us." Edward said as Bella approached.

Michael looked at the two of them for a long time.

_He knows._

Edward heard her thought and it almost made him groan with reluctant acceptance.

"What makes you think that I was going to hurt your friend?" Michael asked, watching Edward closely. "Here he is, unharmed."

"Yes but..." Bella was interrupted by Michael.

"Please, I asked Edward the question." Michael waited.

Edward decided to find out what Michael suspected but all he heard was a mixture of barking dogs and the same calliope music he had heard before. Michael was smiling at him.

_He knows. _Bella thought again.

Edward's face showed his moment of clarity. "Perhaps you would like to prove me wrong?"

Michael was trapped. If he said yes, then Edward would insist that they go to the Bowling Green and gather more facts from Lawrence. If he said no, then he would concede the point outright.

"I have a better idea," Michael countered, as he put his hands in his pockets. Edward did not take his eyes off of him as his hands disappeared. "Why don't we all toast the good doctor's health…with his own drink."

Edward laughed through his nose. It was a great side step and, coupled with him emptying his glass in one gulp, created a stir among the others as they finished their own drinks with shouts of 'Salude' and 'Haza!"

"Michael?" Bella could not wait any longer to resolve the issue. "When are you going to get Lawrence?"

"That, young lady, is none of your business." Michael sniffed loudly and looked around at the gazebo where they all stood. "I think that I will take my leave of you now. Good night and thank you for the lovely party."

"Don't go," Bella nearly pleaded. "Didn't you want to talk to me about the book?"

Michael's eyes widened with surprise. He turned to his colleagues. "Be gone."

Not one of them left through the theatre. They all vanished into the trees and leapt from the roof like it was on fire.

Michael took out the book and looked at it for a long moment. He then put it back into his tailored evening jacket. "If you would you both accompany me to the west end of the garden, I saw something earlier that may help me explain my situation."

As they made their way through the lush rooftop forest, Michael began humming to himself. It was a song he learned in the late 1700's that had something to do with sailors. The tune popped into his head and he gave it voice.

When they reached the spot they had watched the fireworks from, Michael pointed to a spot in the sky. "Do you see that big reddish star?"

"Aldebaran?" Bella asked.

"You know its name." Michael was impressed.

Bella nodded, "When I moved to Paris I began collecting the published works of Michel de Nostredame. I learned the names of the stars as I went along."

"I have all his Almanacs," Michael declared proudly.

"Originals?" Edward knew very well who Nostredame was and that his writings were highly sought after.

"Many, but not all," Michael answered.

"I like his _quatrains_," Bella responded. "They remind me of hymns."

Michael smiled. "Well, Aldebaran was named by the Arabs and its name translates as The Follower because it's always trailing Pleiades."

"The Seven Sisters Cluster," Bella explained to Edward, who nodded his gratitude.

"I have had to learn to follow others in order to continue the book for years now," he said. "I need to follow you now, but you will need help too and I have just the man."

"Don't say Riley," Edward spoke slowly.

Michael did not say his name. He didn't have to.

* * *

Riley Biers was born in London in 1599. His mother died giving birth to him, a fact his father first revealed to him at the age of nine. His father's lack of self-confidence and frequent mistreatment of his only son produced a savage will and an inner fury that lead to the man's death in the year 1611.

He was a murderer and a fugitive at age ten but no one was looking for him. He allowed himself to be pressed into the British Navy as a powder monkey and eventually became Bosun's mate.

He first saw China when he was seventeen years old and abandoned ship for a narrowboat up the Yangtze River. He went to Tongling and back in just under two weeks, selling what he could from a large bag of personal and Navy treasures.

His ship was long gone when he spent his first night in Shanghai.

It was his last as a human.

Riley was a stringy young man. He had only just begun to fill out when he was approached by a blonde male vampire with deep purple eyes. The streets were wet and the moonlight made mosaics in the road.

"You! Boy! Carry my parcel!" The man was used to being obeyed, especially by street insects who welcomed the chance for a meal.

A large sack of rice was dropped at Riley's feet. But he did not move.

"Come now, boy. I'll let you have a handful when we get there."

Riley raised his eyebrows, then turned around wordlessly and walked away.

"Come back here!" The blonde man stood in the street fuming. Riley did not stop or even look back. He heard the man running him down and gripped the small curved blade he had traded a copper cup and a metal mess kit for in Nanjing.

The mess kit had been hard to sell, it had a cross on it that was made to look like an anchor and then topped with a crown. The letters R and N were on either side of it. Riley thought of that as his first real possession while he waited for the moment when the maker of the rapid footfalls would reach out and grab his collar.

He spun around and dove for the man's legs, forcing them both into the muddy earth. The man began to laugh with evil power even as he slowly rose from the road on all fours.

Riley wasted no time, he positioned his blade above his enemy's neck and pounded it with a big rock that scraped his jaw when he fell.

There was a loud 'pop' and the man's head came off in a ragged mess as the blade neatly sliced through his bone and neck muscles.

A shadow nearby moved suddenly and spoke to him.

"What have you done?" It was a female and she bit Riley before taking him to the palace that the local vampires had been living in for centuries.

They were not pleased that their leader had been killed by a human child.

Riley woke up a day later and was questioned by the woman who bit him. He was informed of his new status in the world and warned that he would have to fight for the leadership of the coven as many elder members had already challenged him for the title.

"They can have it," Riley told her.

"That's not how it works."

For eight days straight, Riley went to bed with a fight to the death looming when he awoke. He was not much of a fighter and much weaker than the rest of them but he had a style of fighting that took advantage of his slight build and his rage made him strike out with devastating force when he got his rare opportunities.

Neither man in any of the fights was permitted to use weapons but twice Riley killed with such speed that he was searched for stow-a-way bludgeons. He was desperate and each night asked why as ruler he could not abolish the silly ritual. He was then reminded each night that while under a challenge, no leader could exact decrees.

"Then withdraw your challenges and I will implement a system where you can choose your own leader." He said something like that every night but not many wanted to take the risk of not getting their chance while they could and this was the only time a challenge could be made.

Eventually, he had proven himself with lucky shots and ruthless follow-throughs. When the last challenger had fallen, Riley reconsidered his place in the group and determined that he served them best by retaining his power.

He heard of Michael within the first few months of his infant administration and very much liked the quick witted and wary vampire. Riley knew instantly that, like him, Michael had been turned against his will and the sorrow on his face may as well have been a mask.

Riley reached out to Michael during the early 1600's and was met with polite acceptances or declines. He gladly accepted what interactions he received from the fascinating and mysterious loner.

When Michael came by to say goodbye to some friends who were around when the wall was built, Riley encouraged him to let them ferry him across the Atlantic. He further decided to go with the small group and looked forward to some weeks at sea with the mysterious older man.

It was a six week journey and by the time they landed in New York in March of 1636, Riley was convinced that Michael was the man to lead them in the new world. It was a particularly distasteful encounter but, fortunately, Riley remembered none of it. In fact he and the other traveling coven members remembered very little of the trip except that they were all convinced that the older vampire could crumple their brains like parchment.

Michael was just as surprised as the rest of them but the prolonged time together in the small vessel granted him certain influence that was too skewed for him not to notice.

So he experimented.

Michael forced each man to his breaking point and, in some cases, beyond. Those unfortunates were cast into the ocean to live or die within the crushing depths.

Riley was by far the most susceptible and, as luck would have it, he was a good man to have around. He got things done for them during their first few years in the new city that held much more than Dutch inhabitants.

There were five of them at first, but Michael turned fifty more by 1640. He gained their youth, their loyalty and their considerable wealth all for the easy price of immortality.

Michael had a vampire army and he put Riley in charge of it.

When he decided to find a group of older scholarly men to invite to his infinite corral, Michael decided to also include Riley in the secret he was keeping.

He showed Riley the book and told him not only the story so far within, but the manner in which its verses were painstakingly recovered. Riley was intrigued by the knots, he had been a sailor and rope work was second nature to him. Before long, he and Michael came to an agreement wherein they could both continue unraveling the story.

Riley liked the book very much and planned to steal it one day, if only he could escape the pull of his new master. Michael had compelled him to be loyal but the book was a powerful temptation.

He would take the book one day, and if luck was on his side, he would see Michael killed in the process.

**

* * *

**

**NOTES:**

**Welcome back and, as always, thank you for reading. **

**If you would like to read the poem in Michael's red book uninterrupted, ****I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. I****t is an interesting piece without the trappings of Brutte Parole but, in the end, its commentary is paramount.**

**I would like to recommend a story called Scintilla by GothicTemptress. It is an extremely intelligent and exquisitely written fic that just started a few weeks ago. It will be a fun one to read as it progresses.**

**See you Next Saturday with Chapter Ten: Shellshocked.**

**MOG**


	10. Chapter 10: Shellshocked

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**

**Morgan Locklear owns a sizable collection of vintage Hawaiian shirts and "Weird Al" Yankovic memorabilia.****

* * *

**

**Chapter Ten:**

**Shellshocked**

While Jacob, Rosalie and Esme were having a productive day in Paris, Carlisle, Jasper and Alice were having anything but in Lily, Kentucky.

Carlisle entered the only bank in town at ten o'clock sharp on Wednesday, July 5th, 1892. It was the bank named on the deed he held in his hands and it was a very big, very dark but very new building. Inside were several handsomely appointed desks and a large, round and open vault door.

"May I help you?" The gentleman behind the first desk had a big and exquisitely manicured mustache that curled up into neat little spirals of waxed hair.

"Good morning," Carlisle began. "I am Doctor...Carlos Craven, and I was hoping to speak to someone who is familiar with the bank's land holdings."

"Oh...ah well, that would be Miss Argyle but she is not available at the moment." His mustache twitched.

"That's fine, Nicholas." A deep but feminine voice carried around the vault door a moment before a woman stepped out. She was shapely and mature and her hair was the shade of strawberry blonde that reminded Carlisle of wheat stalks at twilight.

"I would be happy to assist Doctor Craven." She walked forward on polished black shoes that hammered the equally polished salmon marble floor and sent echoes slapping against the distant brick walls.

She shook his hand with alarming strength and Carlisle suddenly had a very bad feeling about her.

"Are you new to these parts?" she asked without a hint of a southern accent.

"I'm from...Canada."

"Well, if you'll just have a seat, I'd be happy to assist you."

She led Carlisle to a large dark and ornate desk that sat near the massive vault door. "Now, you were interested in discussing land holdings?"

"Yes," Carlisle answered. "I was hoping you could validate a deed to a small homestead east of town?" He took out the Kentucky paperwork and put it in front of her. "I won it in a poker game in San Francisco and wanted to be sure that it was a clean property with no liens on it."

The easily believable story had been invented on the road somewhere outside of Baltimore and scrutinized that same morning, before Jasper and Alice sequestered themselves in the basement for the day.

She examined the document. "Have you seen the place yet?"

"Yes, I took the liberty when I arrived in town last evening."

"Well, this is one of ours but I don't see where it has been signed over to you Dr. Craven."

"Oh yes," Carlisle had been prepared for this question. "I had them sign it over to my daughter. It was intended as a gift for her wedding but I wanted to inspect it first. I'm sure you can understand."

"I don't understand. Who is your daughter?"

Carlisle pointed to the single word at the bottom of the page. "That's her right there."

"Senna?" The woman read the word out loud.

"Yes, the deed is in her name. I hope that won't be a problem, I was only trying to make things easier after all."

The woman stood up. "Excuse me please." She walked into the vault and Carlisle could hear her diminishing footsteps. It was as if the vault were as big as the room it bordered.

Carlisle sat in near silence, next to him was a ticking gold leafed desk clock that pulsed a little slower than his rapidly increasing heartbeat. He knew something was wrong and looked around for the man with the wall sconce mustache, but he had disappeared.

Carlisle looked around the tomb-like chamber. It had nice white trim on the ceiling and a chandelier that could have been in an English palace. He heard footsteps approaching from somewhere inside the vault.

More than one set of footprints.

Her strawberry blonde hair was pouring over one of her shoulders as she stepped through the circular opening. Behind her was a stern browed man in a vest and rolled up sleeves. There was a bright red spot of blood on the very tip of his shirt collar.

He openly stared at Carlisle in disbelief before he silently walked to the front doors and locked them.

He approached and sat down in the chair next to Carlisle. Miss Argyle remained standing. He folded his hands in his lap and leaned back.

"Where are the rest of them?" he asked.

Carlisle's mouth went dry. "The rest of the deeds?" he managed to say.

The woman approached him from behind and was close enough that when she spoke, her cool breath produced goosebumps on the back of Carlisle's neck.

"The rest of the vampires." She spoke in a silky 'you know what I'm talking about' voice that instantly turned Carlisle's stomach into a pit.

"Take him into the vault," the man instructed her. "And take a few boys over to the house as soon as you can to look for them. This man did not get that deed by himself."

"I'll take John and John."

"And Senna?"

"Yes."

"Kill everyone you find."

* * *

Michael had arrived in New Amsterdam when the city was still just a rumor in the world and had quickly invested heavily in its development. He had assembled a private army that was used to safeguard the home he built on the east shore of the island somewhere near where 15th Street would later be. It was also used to police the dozens of investments he had made by the time Peter Stuyvesant was appointed Governor in the mid-1640s.

Michael considered befriending the powerful man, turning him perhaps, but knew that the world turned a lot faster during the day and did not wish to rob the infant city of its first leader.

He admired Stuyvesant from afar and kept his interests close to home despite his men's encouragement to hire a ship to go privateering. He valued their input, especially the smaller group of older gentlemen that he created shortly after the young, strong militia, but he did not like to gamble.

Riley was skilled with rope, which is how he saw the knots inside Michael's book. He rolled them around under his fingers like a seamstress, imagining them as black horse tail rope, almost silken to the touch. The knots could not be picked up but, under Michael's supervision, Riley pushed them around the page like billiard balls.

They rolled well because they were just like monkey fists, which were tied at the end of a ship's heaving line. Riley, much too small to throw the weight of the rope, was relegated to tying the spherical and artistic knots that were wrapped around a heavy object, like a lead ball.

They were also effective at the end of a bosun's baton but Riley had never found himself on the receiving end of one. He did not necessarily lead a charmed life aboard British Navy ships but he understood the work. It was certainly preferable to rotting away in a jail cell somewhere so he felt blessed every day. He performed his duty with rigorous efficiency, earning him merit and promotion.

His favorite years were his earliest in the service. He was taught simple repetitive chores that kept him below decks and warmer in the harsh winter months. Knots were a sailor's third and fourth hands. Any man worth his salt could tie a sheep shank with his eyes closed.

Riley immediately recognized the monkey fists and knew that each had a letter within. More importantly, he knew how to break the tension without pulling at the fingers of the knot like Michael had been doing.

It still took enormous amounts of time but Riley was rewarded for his recitation of completed passages every few years. He was allowed his freedom for all of the night and worked as Michael's right hand in all other matters. When the sun rose, however, he was required to spend six hours working the knots before he was allowed to sleep.

On average, it took Riley a month to conquer a single monkey fist and each page held anywhere from thirty to forty knots. The pace was a vast improvement over Michael's efforts in Shanghai.

Michael and his men fed on the tribal natives to the north and west. His mature elite would rationalize this as less loathsome but, if overcome with desire, they would still snatch unfortunate souls off the street with indifference.

Michael learned that he was the only one among them who felt pity for the humans. He prayed for every person he killed yet all of his New York children fed indiscriminately and without remorse.

When Michael had assigned his scholarly vampires to research all avenues of wildlife blood he told them to pretend as if they were Noah on the Ark, except that they only needed to find one of each animal.

They reported to Michael just a few years before Stuyvesant was ousted and proclaimed that human blood was the only viable food source. The project leader, Lawrence, was allowed to pursue his scientific work after that. Michael, however, would pick one or two special side research projects a year.

Riley's first completed page was read in the spring of 1653. New Amsterdam had been given its own charter and Michael had been given a third chance to continue uncovering the story of a race of people who lived exclusively in sunlight but split into two distinct groups after some of them were exposed to only moonlight by way of punishment.

The divided people went to war after an insurrection which showed the Moon skinned peoples' new strengths but also their devastating weakness.

_**The**___

_**fighting**_

_**continued**_

_**for hundreds**_

_**of years**_

Riley was given deep praise for his work from Michael, which he accepted graciously. He was, however, already possessive of the book that only he could read. Riley started in on the next page immediately upon completing the last. He slowly massaged the knots until they released their prize and he told Michael nothing of his suspicion that he smelled the sea.

_**With **_

_**thousands**_

_**of deaths**_

_**and millions**_

_**of tears**_

Riley read this page just over three years after the first. The population of New Amsterdam had almost doubled in that time and Boston, Michael's only African cohort, informed him that there were no less than sixty languages spoken on Manhattan Island. Michael did not go out often. Instead, he devoted his energy to honing his skills in trance and transparency.

_**But it had**_

_**never **_

_**occurred**_

_**to either**_

_**side**_

Riley could actually hear the ocean as he worked the knots. He loosened the ropes and spilled out a hard round seed with the letter etched into it. He told Michael what he saw and when he did, Michael shared that he always got a piece of bone from the monkey fist. Sometimes it was a bird's eye.

_**That there**_

_**might be**_

_**someone**_

_**to act as**_

_**their guide**_

By the time Riley had gotten to this page, New Amsterdam had a new name and the duo had a new perspective on the book. Both men were very eager to complete the next few verses as quickly as possible because it seemed that the book was on the verge of revealing its deepest secrets.

_**That**_

_**someone**_

_**was out there**_

_**with skin**_

_**of Earth**_

Michael began insisting that Riley put more time into the book and the challenge was gladly accepted. He worked from dusk to midnight and then he went out to play and feed with the other vampires. He came home at sunrise and worked the knots until noon, his bedtime. The work was actually gratifying and soothing to Riley. Michael kept him quite comfortable.

_**Who could**_

_**help them**_

_**restore**_

_**the flesh of**_

_**their birth**_

In 1676, the Broad Street canal was filled in and paved, thereby making Broad Street even broader. Michael and Riley often discussed the fantastical possibilities the book was opening them up to. The lost momentum that occurred by having to wait between verses was jarring and frustrated Riley, but Michael had long ago gotten used to it.

_**For there **_

_**was such**_

_**a man**_

_**that no one**_

_**had met**_

Riley's creative methods and diligence earned the two men another page in less than two years. And it would change everything.

_**Or talked to**_

_**or tasted**_

_**his**_

_**influence**_

_**yet**_

"Or _tasted_ his influence yet." Michael was standing over Riley as he read the newest words. Riley had actually called him in when he uncovered the second to last letter, having deduced the likely last word of the line. Michael concurred.

"That can't be coincidence," Riley concluded, looking up. "What do you think it means?"

"I think..." Michael's eyes pulled the corners of his mouth up as if they were on puppet strings.

"Tell me." Riley was as hungry for the answer.

Michael loomed over Riley with a grin that continued to grow grotesquely large. His eyes were as white-blue as the horizon over the ocean and fixed on their subject.

"Let me drink your blood." The words were an order and it was followed without objection.

* * *

Auditions for _The Tempest_ were well attended. Emmett secured a huge spread in the _Currier_ that read:

SHAKESPEARE TO START

AT THEATRE OF THE HEART

In the _Inquirer_, the Page Three headline was taken directly from Emmett's submission:

THE TEMPEST

TAKES NEW YORK

The _Times_ was a bit more creative but the article was buried behind political editorials and stage reviews:

PARIS PRINCESS TO PRODUCE

PROMISCUOUS PERFORMANCE

The _New York Post_ did not publish anything about the auditions but the editor promised to print an interview with the director and run ticket information two weeks before the opening night. The trio of vampires decided they could get the play up and running in eleven weeks time, setting an opening date of Friday, September 30th with a V.I.P. preview, Emmett's idea, the night before.

The articles instructed interested actors and actresses to report to the newly built theatre on the corner of 34th and 8th Avenue, July 5th and/or 6th at noon. It offered twenty-five cents a performance for principals and extras and boasted an international director by the name of Edward Cullen.

The lobby doors were located so far back in the tall entry arch that they could all be opened even on the sunniest of days. There was never any danger of the harmful light warming the air above the stone steps leading up to the theatre.

Emmett greeted them all, forty-seven men and fifteen women, in the lobby. He gave them very simple forms to fill out, asking them to list previous experience and parts they were interested in. He gave them all numbers, instructing them to please sit in the back of the auditorium and wait to be called up.

Edward had a wonderful afternoon watching the actors perform. He found great prospects for Ariel and the several of the ship's crew within the first hour. He also found possibilities for the jester, Trinculo, and his friend, Stephano, but still needed a decent Prospero. He also had to find a convincing actor to play his beast, Caliban.

He and Bella sat in the middle of the gorgeous auditorium and before long, Emmett was able to join them, having completed his registration. They discussed that evening's itinerary as the actors shuffled on and off stage.

"Are you two really going over there?" Emmett asked in a whisper.

"I agreed to hear him out and that's all," Bella answered.

"I'm going with her," Edward stated from behind one of his sister's spring boards. Garrett, Rosalie's glass installation partner, had shown up early that day to audition for the part of Ferdinand, the King's son and love interest. He had introduced himself to Bella and Edward and presented several of the clever devices which clamped paper to a thin piece of wood as gifts.

He was a handsome man and read well for the part, but was a bit too old. Edward liked him for Prospero's villainous brother, Antonio.

"I'll go too," Emmett told them.

"I'd welcome that." Edward nodded. "I think we should stick together."

Emmett's God voice had been very active since the fireworks. It kept Bella and Edward up during the day. He was arguing with himself about the fact that he missed killing humans.

Bella explained to Edward, who had lived a relatively sheltered vampire life, that there was a hunting aspect that was instinctual and primal and could be hard to forget.

That was the same argument that Emmett was making but God was vengeful and tortured Emmett for his errant thoughts.

No one would know about his internal struggle from the way Emmett interacted with the actors and coordinated the group readings. Surprisingly, he worked very well with humans. He orchestrated the chaos like he could conduct water and the wind.

"Good," he said before getting up to gather all the women to read for the one and only female part, Miranda. Edward wanted someone breathtaking, someone every man in the audience would fall in love with.

Bella turned him down when he offered the part to her but they found an enrapturing twenty-year old woman with milk chocolate hair that had been brushed with caramel. She was beautiful, but more than that, she was sensual. A born flirt, she had Emmett's attention from the moment she spoke in her succulent voice.

"I would not wish any companion in the world but you;" She walked down the thrust of the stage where the two diagonal ramps that spanned the orchestra pit came together.

"Nor can imagination form a shape, beside yourself, to like of."

The rest of her audition had not been necessary, but it was brilliant all the same.

Next up was Lawrence, recently rescued from a horrific death at the hands of the morning sun as it brushed across the wide open space of the Bowling Green at the tip of the island. Bella had arrived there before dawn and instructed the man to shake off the mental shackles that Michael had cast on him.

He was grateful to the point of tears and accepted her offer to stay at the theatre. Since he was a gifted orator, Lawrence took the stage with the rest of the actors when he saw the audition posting. His reading for Alonso, the King of Naples, was winning and he also shared some very interesting information with Bella that earned her trust.

He stayed behind while the trio took a cab up to Michael's house at the top of Central Park. Edward announced that he had many of the principal parts already filled.

The northbound cab crossed 59th Street and the driver asked the party if they would like to take the east drive through the park instead of the main road. They agreed and were treated to an immersion into wilderness where trees drooped over their heads and smooth sheets of dark purple water from various lakes and ponds reflected their branches.

They were all pleased with the choice and Edward wondered why anyone would choose the former route to spirit that far uptown. As they were passing the Central Park Zoo, newly rebuilt after a fire, Edward began discussing the play.

"We need to find our Prospero tomorrow."

"We'll have another big turnout," Emmett said with certainty. "Did you hear their reaction to the auditorium? We might even have more people show up."

"What other parts do you still need to fill?" Bella asked while she was looking around for the Aldebaran star.

"The three big ones are Prospero, Sebastian and Caliban, the beast."

"Oh yes, Caliban." Bella nodded her head into a north wind that was warm and pleasant. "It's going to take a brave actor to play him."

"They are all tricky roles," Edward commented.

"Even Sebastian?" Bella thought that he was a fairly benign character.

"Oh yes." Edward's eyes gleamed instantly. "Sebastian is wise but impressionable. He has some of the best lines in the play and is usually quite popular with the ladies in the audience." He turned his thoughts inward, determined to find a complicated man to play the complicated role.

"What's the plan once we get there?" Emmett shifted their focus toward the impending visit.

"We're not leaving her alone with him," Edward answered firmly.

"Agreed."

"It's not Michael I'm worried about," Bella admitted. "It's Riley."

"I am going to pay extra close attention to Riley," Edward reassured her. The double meaning was not lost on Bella, he was going to listen for Riley's thoughts.

The park was an impressive presence, Edward could hear how few people were around and decided to come to the park to finish writing his new song for Bella. He would gladly sacrifice the use of a piano for the tranquil favors of the green oasis.

They pulled up in front of Michael's estate to find a group of vampires playing cricket in the side yard. There were large Edison street lamps bringing out the vibrant green that was usually reserved for midday.

Michael was there as well, complaining loudly that baseball was a superior game.

Edward thought it odd to see Michael not get his way and in such a casual occurrence. Edward knew that the information was noteworthy, valuable even, but did not yet know how.

"Hello guests." Riley approached them with his hand extended. He had made good on his word by sending men over to the theatre earlier that morning to measure for the new marble floor.

They had exchanged telephone numbers the night before and Riley had been almost sickeningly sweet, scheduling the measurements to take place before the auditions. He did not want to disturb the theatre's business.

"Hello Riley." Bella shook his hand, which was cold and clammy. It was like touching a fish and coming from another vampire, that was saying a lot.

"My guys are going to cut everything first, then come in next week and replace the floor in one day."

"You have our number," Edward spoke with a pleasant hand shake. "Just let us know when they're ready." Riley was sincere and that made Edward suspicious.

Riley nodded, shook Emmett's hand and fell back as Michael approached. "Hello everyone." Bella immediately noticed that Michael was dressed in priestly robes. They were very fine and nothing like the tattered garments she remembered from centuries before. He seemed in good spirits but had a mischievous grin lurking on his lips.

"Why don't we take this inside?"

* * *

Riley had perfected the art of loosening the monkey fist knot and feeling for the letter etched on the large seed within. They were no bigger than blueberries but Riley would swear that when he was working them that they were the size of coconuts.

They had been surprised to find that it took until well after the American Revolution to get any more useful information from the book concerning the savior it had eluded to.

The day Michael drank Riley's blood was the day he realized what the dark cool substance Wūpó had fed him really was.

_**Most of**_

_**the**_

_**fighting**_

_**happened**_

_**at dawn**_

Michael and Riley had been drinking a small amount of blood from each other every evening for over a year. They experienced heightened abilities but their thirst was not quenched. They shared their findings with the group hoping to put more minds on the discovery.

_**Or just**_

_**after**_

_**sunset**_

_**from**_

_**then on**_

It was 1679 and the Habeas Corpus Act was passed by British Parliament. Upon request, a jailer was required to produce the body of any prisoner and show cause for his imprisonment. Michael knew that the human rights act was passed in part because he and his colleagues often chose to feed from prisoners rather than go out hunting the clever and quiet natives that had already caught and killed one of Michael's own men.

_**They **_

_**seemed**_

_**to split **_

_**night**_

_**and day**_

The group donated their own blood to a community pitcher anytime they drank from it and they could feel a profound difference in their bodies. They also maintained a very strict code not to kill on the island anymore. Instead, they hunted in New Jersey.

_**But the**_

_**pink sky**_

_**always**_

_**got in**_

_**the way**_

Riley had discovered that the seeds he was pulling from the monkey fist knots were known as Jack In The Pulpit seeds and were found only in America. Michael appreciated the irony in the religious name but was really tickled when Riley told him they were also known as Cobra Lily or Devil's Ear seeds.

_**No one**_

_**noticed**_

_**the**_

_**red**_

_**eclipse**_

Maybe he was making up for lost time at sea, but Riley had become quite the green thumb. He had been growing the most beautiful grapes in their garden since the first of many Yellow Fever epidemics that spread through New York during the 1700's. The group used the grapes to make wine and they used the fever to cover their sinister habits.

_**Even**_

_**when**_

_**it foresaw**_

_**an**_

_**apocalypse**_

Michael had long ago put Riley back on a three to five year cycle with the pages. He did not want to burn out his most helpful assistant and knew that it could take decades more to get something out of that book beyond a description of a war that probably did not last as long as it had taken Michael to read about.

_**The sun**_

_**was blocked**_

_**for more**_

_**than**_

_**an hour**_

Michael had grown so good with the power of suggestion that he began to receive regular human visitors, intent on offering their life's blood for his liking. He also began asking Riley to describe what the sensation felt like when he was resisting a command. Riley, meanwhile, became concerned that Michael might begin to tie up loose ends concerning the book.

_**Followed **_

_**by**_

_**a huge**_

_**thunder**_

_**shower**_

Riley began growing Jack in the Pulpit flowers in summer of 1712. The Carolina Colony being split in two made headlines in New York but the much bigger news was that the Pennsylvania assembly banned the import of slaves into their colony. Michael had grown to think of humans as pets and he wanted his pets to all get along, so he was with the Pennsylvanians in principal.

_**The **_

_**heavens**_

_**themselves**_

_**wanted**_

_**to speak**_

Several years later, New Orleans was founded by the French. Several of Michael's vampires wanted to see the thriving city but he had several reasons not to let them go. Michael was not entirely sure that his coaxed loyalty was holding its effectiveness, so he met with each one of his men every two weeks. It worked out to four interviews and readjustments a day.

_**But the**_

_**people**_

_**were busy**_

_**perfecting**_

_**technique**_

Riley imagined that the monkey fists were getting bigger and bigger as the years and the pages passed. It seemed as if he had a child's hands when he was loosening the interlaced ropes to remove a seed the size of a harbor buoy. He was transported to another world and gladly took his time with the project as long as Michael was nonchalant about it. Riley knew that eternity would allow him only distant memories of his current wonderful moments.

_**The world**_

_**even **_

_**shook**_

_**to sound**_

_**it's distress**_

Four soldiers and two scholars escaped from Michael in early March of 1724. Michael howled like a wolf and tore down his stone house with his bare hands in anger. He disappeared for a month and came back with a barrel of blood and a limp. He clamped down hard after that and killed three more of his children after extensive interviews.

_**But**_

_**neither**_

_**side**_

_**would**_

_**acquiesce**_

In 1729, Isaac Newton's _Principia _was finally translated from Latin into English. Michael would have stopped bothering to teach the dead language after that but he was nostalgic about its elegance. It did not matter anyway because, by then, all of his scholarly vampires could read it.

_**Volcano**_

_**ash**_

_**filled**_

_**the**_

_**air**_

The 1730's turned out to be a great time for publications. The world was rich with skilled and emotive authors but it was the Poor Richard's Almanack, with its weather predictions and numerous proverbs, that truly captivated Michael. Benjamin Franklin was even invited to a party Michael threw at his newly built home on Fifth Avenue. Mr. Franklin, however, sent his regrets as he was attending another party in the newly founded 13th colony of Georgia.

_**Then**_

_**neither**_

_**the sun**_

_**nor the moon**_

_**was there**_

Riley sensed that something was changing in the book. The smell and the sound of the ocean was by then a constant companion during his time with it. Michael smelled it as well. Riley was allowed to work in private but voluntarily brought the book back so Michael would never feel compelled to issue a command.

_**Both sides**_

_**were **_

_**frightened**_

_**and once **_

_**again lost**_

France and Spain allied against England in 1740 and King George's War was going to rage for eight years. Fifty black slaves in South Carolina were hanged after it was discovered that they were planning a revolt. Michael had decided not to turn any more Africans into vampires after Boston suggested the new rule. He even went a step further, forbidding his men from feeding on any of the already downtrodden people.

_**Then came**_

_**the Winter**_

_**with a**_

_**forever**_

_**frost**_

New York was home to many wealthy people and the each house along Fifth Avenue was more impressive than the last. Some of the neighbors annoyed Michael, so he killed them, bought their houses and created a system of doors and passageways that allowed his men to move from one to the other in the middle of the day.

_**The planet**_

_**got covered**_

_**with**_

_**snow**_

_**and ice**_

In 1750, the Iron Act was passed by the English Parliament and limited the growth of the iron industry in the American colonies. Furious New Yorkers took to the streets in protest. In 1751, when the Currency Act banned the issuing of paper money by the Colonies, people began using the word revolution more liberally.

_**And the**_

_**oceans**_

_**froze over**_

_**not once**_

_**but twice**_

Michael read quite a bit and first heard mention of George Washington when he sided with the American Indian and defeated French troops in the Ohio valley. He and his men stayed out of human affairs mostly, but turmoil filled the skies like smoke and they were all getting frustrated with how all the warring interfered with business. It was Riley who first suggested that they consider getting into the business of war.

_**For**_

_**centuries**_

_**the**_

_**planet**_

_**was white**_

Weapons, ballistics, uniforms, food rations, gun powder and even cooking and eating utensils - Michael had his hands into everything including specialty supplies like officers saddles and other necessities, like coffins. The fall of Quebec gave the English control of Canada and it was a much needed victory after devastating losses to the French. Michael was there to capitalize on that as well.

_**And day**_

_**was**_

_**even**_

_**colder**_

_**than night**_

Riley had conducted most of the big money deals with humans, who only needed a little to start and kept coming back with profit. There was very little work beyond finding the right person to invest in. Humans were so keenly aware of their finite existence that many exhibited a drive and determination that could be rewarded as well as envied.

_**With a**_

_**thick ice**_

_**blanket**_

_**on land**_

_**and sea**_

The Stamp Act Congress convened in New York City in 1765 with the purpose of sending a petition to King George III, requesting a repeal of an act that taxed every single document printed in the Colonies, including personal contracts and even playing cards. Michael read a copy of the resolution and its taxation without representation argument was sound enough to warrant debate. Everyone was still surprised when the King actually repealed the decree but war was already brewing like tea, which was also taxed.

_**Both**_

_**parties**_

_**were**_

_**weakened**_

_**considerably**_

Michael had been feeding supplies to both sides so he stayed out of the politics. As long as the civil unrest did not cause his nice homes to be burned down, Michael was content to observe. In 1770, he allowed all of his men a vote on the matter, and at the last minute changed his own vote to join the fight. He thought of the effort to defend Shanghai and could not turn his back on New York; however, the majority believed that abstaining was the wisest course of action.

_**Too hungry**_

_**to fight**_

_**too tired**_

_**to**_

_**shout**_

They voted again after General Washington was forced to retreat right past their houses and the city was taken by the British. Riley gave an impassioned speech about protecting their secrets. They had all lived at least a century by then and were becoming careless. Michael was so awakened by the logic that he gave his own speech insisting that they give the Colonists a few years to take their empire city back. The vote was unanimous.

_**Everyone**_

_**slept**_

_**as they**_

_**waited**_

_**it out**_

It was a case of life imitating art.

* * *

Alice did not tarry long between sleep and waking, so when the porch creaked she opened her eyes and was instantly aware that Jasper was not beside her.

Jasper, combat trained, was already standing underneath the wooden basement stairs with a finger to his dimpled smile. Alice could see his mischievous eyes gleam between the steps as he motioned for her to lie back down.

A decoy.

There were three of them and they crept straight for the basement door. Jasper was not certain they were vampires but he was going to find out. He drew his twin sickles silently and hoped that two of them would come down at once.

Alice played her part beautifully. She even improvised and began taking long, shallow, human breaths. She assumed that they would think that any vampire would have woken up by then and banked on the fact that the unexpected sight of a human would only serve to lull them.

One of them came down slowly. Jasper was disappointed but knew his moment when the intruder relaxed his body, having seen the helpless girl and savoring the moment before striking.

Jasper lashed out with the almost circular blades and they each cleaved through the legs of the paused predator just above the ankles.

He screamed loud enough to give everyone a start and, when he fell forward, Alice was already on her feet and piercing the back of his skull with her rapier. Even as his feet drummed on the basement floor, Alice was up the stairs and driving the punching dagger, her soon to be favorite weapon, up through the mouth of the gaping man at the top of the stairs. The tip poked out of his scalp like a Jack-in-the-box coated in dark crimson. She twisted it sharply to the left and the right and yanked it out sidestepping the gush of gore that erupted through his mouth.

Jasper came around from underneath the stairs in time to see a red headed woman prepare to swing a custom black metal blade at the otherwise engaged Alice. The stairs were slick with blood and the woman's blade was already suspended in mid-air.

He was not going to get there in time.

"Stop!" He knew the tactic worked when both women stopped.

Then they looked at each other.

Alice reacted first and kicked out with the cute new boots she found in Snowville, Virginia. They made her feel like a cowgirl and the four inch square heels delivered a satisfying blow to her fair headed foe.

The vampire stayed on her feet but dropped her sword and ran. Alice caught a handful of hair before she got two steps and threw her to the ground. Jasper was up the stairs by then and knelt on her chest before her hands could settle on the dusty floor.

The tip of her own sword was motionless, one inch above her forehead, held in Jasper's granite grip.

Senna looked up at him and her eyes filled with tears. "But...this is my house."

Ordinarily, this reaction would not sway Jasper but since they needed to leave someone alive anyway, he allowed himself a moment of pity for her. The fact that she had voluntarily disarmed herself was not lost on him but there were more important things on his mind.

"Where is he?" Jasper asked his question calmly but expectantly.

Senna pursed her lips, she could tell that the lean man was not putting his full weight on her body but she was already in agony. She could not get any air to speak a single word, however, so she frantically nodded her head.

Yes…yes…yes.

asper reached down and grabbed her wrist in such a way that it folded her hand backwards and a produced a cornucopia of pain as he pulled her to her feet. Her sword was withdrawn and handed to Alice, who inspected it closely. It was a Granada style sword, Spanish and beautiful.

"If you take us to our friend right now I will let you live," Jasper told her. "Decide."

"If I do then will you give me the other deeds and tell me what happened to my...friends in Europe?" Her voice was shaking but she had maintained the nerve to pose the question.

"You can have those things right now," Jasper stated coolly. "But the deal on the table is the human's life for yours." Jasper applied more pressure to her askew hand and she squealed in protest.

"I agree!"

Jasper could see through the thin window curtains that the surprise visitors had arrived with their human captive's horses and carriage. "Let's go for a ride."

Without another word, Jasper hooked her under the arms and carried her out to the solid coach. He threw her inside and warned her of the consequences if either door opened for any reason unless by him. He was graphic in his description, frightfully so, and Senna looked as fragile as a human when he slammed the door.

"Why did you say that this was your house?" Alice asked through the gray glass.

"It is my house. I'm Senna."

Jasper and Alice looked at each other. They had not considered that possibility.

"Where is the doctor?"

"At the bank."

Jasper jumped up to the whip's bench and Alice joined him. She kept a close eye on their passive cargo but was ready to run her down if she defied Jasper's orders. There was little chance of that but her confidence was rattled by the close call at the top of the stairs.

They pulled up in front the dark brick building while scarlet still whispered in the low clouds above them. Jasper and Alice stepped into the carriage with Senna. He held all eight deeds in his hands.

"We are not thieves," Jasper began, "but we acquired these after we put down a half dozen disgusting creatures who tortured humans before they fed."

"Where were they?" There was something anxious in Senna's voice.

Jasper looked at Alice, who answered for them. "Let's just say that it was a boat ride away."

"They did not have the right to take those documents. You were in my childhood home. The others are...businesses."

Jasper considered asking her to clarify but let the mystery go. He could tell that Alice believed her and, frankly, he was glad to be rid of the burden. He handed the papers to her and asked her a question that was laced with menace.

"You would have killed us outright, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Orders."

"From whom?"

"My husband."

Jasper was surprised that she voluntarily increased her value as a hostage. He assumed that she was unaware of the tactical blunder but began to wonder if she was merely insuring her physical well-being by exposing the personal connection to the leader of her particular vampire faction.

"How are you going to get our man to us?"

"I'll go in and get him," she answered.

Alice and Jasper laughed together. "Try again," he told her.

"You can't go where I'm going."

Jasper smiled and effortlessly slid the sickle under her chin. "You've got that right."

"Wait!"

"Last chance," Jasper warned. "We really don't need you."

It was now Senna's turn to smile. Alice did not like the look of it while Jasper got downright nervous.

"Let's go inside," she said and reached for the door.

Jasper put his hand on top of hers. "This is where some people would remind you that if you are leading us into a trap, we will both make sure that you are the first one to die. I would rather remind you that we returned your property and, by your own admission, were only defending ourselves. We are only interested in retrieving our friend, unharmed, and leaving in peace."

"We would not hurt a doctor," Senna's tone was shocked. "Not even a human doctor."

Jasper removed his hand but gestured for Alice to exit from her door. Senna followed and Jasper closed the door behind him.

The bank door was locked but Senna produced a silver key that opened it with a half turn.

Jasper and Alice kept the woman between them as the large main room greeted them with a silent salutation and a strange scent. "It's mustache wax," Senna explained.

"Why does it smell like mustache wax?" Alice asked.

She was answered by the click of a shotgun.

Senna spoke venomously towards the man with the curled mustache, who had risen from behind the counter with a double barrel frown. "Put it down you fool! Can't you see it's me?"

Admirably, he did not flinch at the vampire's words, nor did he lower the weapon. "Are you forgetting the protocol Miss Argyle?"

"This is a special circumstance, Nicholas. Now you have done well but, please, we are in a terrible rush." Senna began walking towards the massive vault but Nicholas raised the weapon at Jasper.

"Mister. I don't know who you are but you are not allowed in there."

"Alright." Jasper pulled his sickle and hooked Senna by the neck. Only the outside edge of the blade was sharpened so she was in no actual danger, but he had complete control of her movements. "But she's not leaving my side until I see my friend."

"Go get him," Senna commanded the human. "And have him bring the doctor."

"As you wish." Nicholas ran to the vault door and, with one last glance that made Alice moan with dread, pulled the heavy door closed behind him.

Senna began laughing.

"Do what you want to me," she said defiantly. "But your friend is as good as dead."

* * *

**NOTES: **

**To all my readers and friends in Japan, I wish you staggering support for the recovery of your brilliant nation. From my family to yours, I offer our thoughts and prayers for everyone affected by the earthquake and subsequent tsunami. I have been made aware of a fandom-wide response to this crisis and hope you will join me in participating in their efforts as a contributor or a donor, or both.**

**My hard working wife and beta, Jennifer, has chosen a more characteristic identity on Twitter and FanFiction. She is now RandomCran and I get all my good ideas from her.**

**I will be participating as an author for the upcoming Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser. For more information on this event, please visit ****fandom4saa(dot)wordpress(dot)com /**

**If you would like to read the poem in Michael's red book uninterrupted, ****I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. I****t is an interesting piece without the trappings of Brutte Parole but, in the end, its commentary is paramount.**

**See you next week for Chapter Eleven: For Whom The Bell Tolls**

**MOG**


	11. Chapter 11:  For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear wrote a limerick that made the man from Nantucket blush.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**For Whom the Bell Tolls**

Alice stood inside a very square, dark bank in Lily, Kentucky, watching Jasper hold a laughing redheaded woman inside the curve of his sickle. The sound of the vault door slamming shut was still fading in the room while the renewed chortles of Jasper's prisoner kept the air fresh with voice.

She knew that Carlisle was on the other side of a metal door so thick that even a hundred vampires could not open it.

"You will never get in there," Senna taunted. "You've lost."

"First of all…" Jasper turned his wrist slightly, sending her head tilting uncomfortably to the side. "We can easily wait them out." He led her to a nearby chair and sat her down. "Unless you have a week's supply of humans down there." He enjoyed watching her face fall. He motioned for Alice to take hold of the weapon and she held it solidly. Alice did not jostle the woman as she watched Jasper approach the shiny round door with what looked like a ship's wheel firmly planted in the center. "Secondly, I'm already halfway in."

He walked over to the vault and inspected it closely.

"Do you know how birds and whales migrate long distances?" Alice asked her captive audience.

"Yes, I suppose," Senna answered.

"Well," Alice smiled smugly looking back over at Jasper, who was already turning the wheel slowly to the left. "Let's just hope that birds don't learn how to walk into banks."

Jasper laughed to himself. He could see where the vault had been touched most frequently and could deduce a possible combination based on hand placement on the wheel, but he chose to use his exquisite hearing to let the safe open itself with some gentle prodding.

Senna watched in horror as he began turning the wheel. She struggled against the corral around her neck but Alice jerked her into a more submissive position.

"You are about one minute from becoming obsolete," Alice told her. "And since you have already proven yourself untrustworthy, I can't think of a single reason to keep you alive."

"Leverage," Jasper responded, without looking up. "Someone in there may trade her for Carlisle." He stopped turning the wheel and walked back to the women. He knelt down in front of Senna. "But Alice is right. We can't trust you. Even leverage is not worth the risk of having you in there with us."

He drew his other sickle and hooked her neck into the back curve just as Alice had. "If you have anything to tell us that might change my mind, now is the time to speak."

Her eyes were wide and wild. She had wanted to play the strong martyr at first but she understood that her life was now measured in seconds. It loosened her resolve and her lips.

"It's just the two of us now," she sobbed. "You killed the Johns. Nicholas is merely our human, and it's only them down there." She was telling the truth.

"I don't believe you," Jasper replied. He nodded to Alice and a second later they pulled their sickles towards themselves and in opposing directions, trapping her neck between the dull edges. Senna gushed blood out of her mouth for only a split second before her head popped off and rolled across the shiny floor like a tumbleweed with a train of red hair.

"The door is unlocked," Jasper told Alice. "Let's go."

Alice handed him the borrowed weapon. "I think she was telling the truth that time."

"Maybe," Jasper said stoically. "But she gave whoever it is down there enough of a warning to spoil our surprise and ample time to kill Carlisle." He strode to the vault. "I worry that we're already too late."

"Oh." Alice was saddened to hear such a well-reasoned theory and she pictured the gruesome potential with maddening clarity.

"Just be prepared for anything." He slowly opened the heavy door but the loud clicks and groans may as well have been a herd of buffalo announcing their approach. Jasper peered around the thick threshold. He saw a room filled with metal boxes and several small open safes, each stuffed with American currency.

Alice swiveled her head around as she stepped into the vault. She checked all four corners and she sniffed the air. Jasper went straight to the round hole in the floor that had once hosted a Jacob's ladder hanging from two bolts.

"The rope is cut," Jasper whispered.

Alice could see where the ladder was once attached to the shaft's brick wall. She sniffed the air again. "Carlisle has been here."

Jasper nodded, he had a lousy sense of smell. He walked to the left and saw a nearby table that normally sat over an opening in the floor. He wished he would have thought of sleeping in a bank vault. It was a great idea unless one had vampire enemies with equal hearing and a basic knowledge of how tumbler locking mechanisms worked.

He suddenly missed his friend, Jacob, who would have also applauded the ingenious defense. The two men bonded on the _La Touraine,_ while Jacob bravely held his desperate fears at bay while they split an ocean. Jasper admired Jacob. He even feared the hidden beast within. In many ways, that fear made Jasper admire him even more.

But there was a human who had a very similar heart and soul to Jacob and his scent was strong in the dark chamber below them. Jasper looked into the hole and saw that it was just a passageway leading away from the bank.

"Watch behind us, Alice." Jasper craned his neck but saw nothing but brick. "There might be a back door." Jasper then checked the area just below the hole, expecting to see a trap of some sort but found only the heap of rope and wood that made up the disengaged ladder. A soft landing, he thought.

"I'm going down," Jasper said. "Drop in right behind me."

"Alright."

Jasper jumped.

Carlisle had spent his day with Jeremy, a deranged vampire. He was the second immortal lunatic to kidnap Carlisle in a month.

He was not abused but was treated like a human who tried to pass off a vampire's property as his own. He surmised introducing himself as a doctor when he entered the bank spared his life. His doctor's bag enforced his claim despite being caught in a lie but his captor never searched it to verify his title.

He noticed then how inconsistent they were in their affairs.

They asked him questions that made him feel uncomfortable, questions like, 'Is it true that a tablespoon of salt will kill a human?' Carlisle was afraid that any answer would pique their curiosity so he remained quiet. He did not really understand why they wanted him alive if they were planning to kill his traveling companions with but, from what he could gather, they were going to take him somewhere.

They did not ask him anything about where he got the deed but they continued to pepper him with odd and macabre medical questions that were so outrageous Carlisle began to suspect they were mocking him.

He was introduced to a pair of smiling giants after he had been there a few hours.

"This is John and John," Jeremy introduced when the silent vampires entered the room. "They will be paying your vampire friends a visit."

Carlisle did not respond to the statement. He was not going to provide them with any information, not even inadvertently.

Senna seemed sympathetic. "I'm sorry we don't have any human food," she told him when his stomach grumbled for its overdue lunch.

Carlisle was sitting in a subterranean room underneath the bank's property but not the bank itself. They had walked for what would have been a city block above ground before the brick passageway opened up into a series of dome ceilinged chambers.

Senna and the two Johns made regular trips back and forth through the passageway, but Jeremy never left his sight. The vampire was young looking but old acting and he kept smiling at Carlisle. The smile was not evil, nor was it amused. It seemed unconscious and Carlisle even read it as romantic once or twice.

He felt very vulnerable after that.

Sunset was announced and Senna left with the giant Johns but returned a moment later. She told Jeremy she had discovered a large black carriage outside that looked as if it provided daytime protection to vampires, but no more than a few.

"The animals are gorgeous as well," Senna commented.

"Take them," he told her. "And tell Nicholas to take up watch position."

Senna nodded to Jeremy then looked down at Carlisle, who had been sitting in an upholstered felt chair. It looked comically out of place alongside the nice furniture in the cave.

"Would you like me to give your friends a message from you?" She smiled sweetly at the human.

Carlisle considered many responses to that question. He was most inclined to answer, 'I told you so,' or to decline politely, knowing that she was not going to confront ordinary vampires and that he stood a good chance of speaking to his friends again. He remained silent. It had been his mainstay for the whole day.

They left and Jeremy went back to the map that he had been scribbling on all day. He seemed particularly interested in the railroad lines and bodies of water they crossed.

Carlisle swallowed his heartbeats as he waited for Senna to walk back into the room, but it was the man with the curly mustache who came running into the room forty minutes later in a full panic.

"Miss Argyle is back sir," Nicholas said to Jeremy. He was winded. "She is with a couple who seem to be holding her against her will."

Carlisle kept his face impassive but his heart soared. They had survived the ambush. He was aware, however, that the following few minutes could be very dangerous for him.

"Where are the Johns?" Jeremy asked.

"I did not see them sir."

Jeremy stood up. His mouth popped open then closed again. He made a decision in that moment that spoke volumes about his character. "Cut the ladder."

"Yes sir." Nicholas ran off in the direction of the bank.

Jeremy then produced a rope from a cabinet and tied Carlisle's hands behind him.

"What about your wife?" Carlisle got out that one question before a handkerchief was shoved into his mouth.

"If you spit that out, I'll kill you before your friends get the chance." Jeremy sounded rattled and roughly pushed Carlisle to the floor so he could begin tying the man's feet.

"They ruined everything!" His voice pulsed as he wound the rope around Carlisle's legs. "If the John's are dead then we're all dead."

Carlisle was confused by what the panicked man was saying and he was completely unable to move by the time Nicholas came back into the room.

"The ladder is down sir."

"Go on ahead and prepare the boat," Jeremy commanded and the man trotted off down another passageway.

Carlisle was then dragged by the feet down the long dark hallway, toward the bank vault. The rope and wood that made up the Jacob's ladder he had climbed down earlier in the day lay in a heap on the floor.

Jeremy shoved the immobile Carlisle underneath the heavy ropes and looked up when he heard the vault wheel begin turning.

"That's a long drop," Jeremy whispered to the doctor. "But don't worry, you'll break their fall."

To make sure that the human did not get any bright ideas, Jeremy reached in and gently lifted Carlisle's head by the hair before pushing it roughly into the hard brick floor.

Carlisle closed his eyes.

* * *

"I have something to tell you, Michael."

Bella, Edward and Emmett were sitting in Michael's upstairs sitting room enjoying a nighttime view of Central Park and the lighted city beyond it. The railing of the balcony was the only obstruction and she was unnerved to see that her theatre's tower was starkly visible from his home.

Michael smiled. "Please, you may tell me anything."

"I saved Lawrence this morning. I'm sorry for yet another conflict between us since I moved here but I felt that since it was my party..."

"Lawrence is of no concern to me today Bella," Michael interrupted. "And I already assumed that you would when I saw you return with Emmett."

"About that…" Emmett had already accepted Michael's apology but the feeling of being controlled like a puppet was still fresh and troubling. He was also forced to observe that Bella was able to counter his suggestions. Suddenly, he connected memories of her locking eyes with him the same way in the past and giving him instructions that he always felt compelled to follow.

"I hope you weren't planning on leaving me there, because I cost you nothing."

"But that's not true," Michael protested. "You cost me Lawrence."

_I_ _wonder what else they're hiding from us? _

Emmett's God voice boomed in his head and Edward almost cursed out loud. Bella held her expression but Edward was instantly treated to a string of obscenities that would make a Viking blush.

Edward took the opportunity to change the subject. "Does this mean that you have forgiven Lawrence?"

Michael frowned in thought. "I am pleased that Bella released him, but he cost me two hundred and fifty years of progress and that is a monstrous betrayal of trust. No, I do not forgive him."

"Michael," Bella spoke his name with a measure of sadness and disappointment that chilled the room. "You _taught_ me the meaning of forgiveness."

"I am not that man, Bella," Michael said softly. "I wasn't even him when I knew you in Elsebridge. I had been faking it for centuries by then." He saw utter devastation bloom in her eyes. "I'm sorry my child but you were a human and I was a vampire. I taught you what you needed for that life, not what you would need for this one."

"We DO need it! More than _anyone,_ Michael!" Bella was stunned by his obtuseness.

"Wait, please." Michael held his hands out. "You were hoping that I would not be upset about your interfering with my order to Lawrence and I am not." He lowered his hands. "I have not even asked you about the powerful ability we share and, I might add, you did not mention when we discussed the matter of talents last week." He looked over at Emmett.

"Besides, I have a feeling that your friend will ask enough for the both of us."

Emmett was still pondering the Lord's observation and the suggestion was gaining traction. He would indeed be asking more questions once they returned to the theatre.

"Fine," Bella said at last, "but Lawrence is staying with us."

Michael nodded then leaned over to address Riley. "When we're done here, why don't you gather his personal effects and give them to Bella?"

"Certainly." Riley answered but he was watching Edward. He had not forgiven the brash newborn for manhandling him but he did not seek revenge. Instead, he was apprehensively grateful for their involvement.

"Excuse me, Michael," Edward spoke up. "You mentioned something about two hundred and fifty years of progress being lost? Does that mean that you and your...team are going to convert to pig blood for sustenance?"

"We may."

"Well..." Edward rubbed his eye. Bella thought he looked like a cute sleepy baby. Edward was not amused by the intruding thought as he gathered his own. "You just pointed out how much time you lost, so why wouldn't you jump at the chance?"

Michael considered the question. "I've other things to contend with just now."

"Nothing should be more important than people." Edward's statement was simple but profound. His words, unfortunately, were not appreciated.

Michael sighed deeply. "Alright...If I have Riley look into procuring pig blood can we please get to the reason I invited you here?"

Also _the reason you kidnapped Edward's parents in the first place, _Emmett thought.

Edward shielded his grin from under a cough. Emmett always seemed to make him take everything less seriously.

Bella gestured for Michael to continue and he responded by reaching inside his jacket and producing the small red book. "You will remember that there was a small amount of what appeared to be sand on the first few pages?"

Bella remembered reading the first verse as easily as if she was looking at it through smoke. "I remember."

"I left those intact for nostalgic reasons but now the rest of the book looks like this." Michael flipped past the middle of the book and Bella saw the round knots. "Where have I seen these before?"

"They're monkey fists," Riley answered. "And they normally are found at the end of a heaving line on a ship or a dock."

Bella remembered seeing a heavy rope coiled at the bow of the _La Touraine_ and with a much larger version of the round balls of rope cradled in the center of the hemp nest. She could see how the name applied as she recalled that the big knot looked like it had fingers wrapped around its treasure.

"You need me to untie knots?"

"_I'll _be untying the knots," Riley corrected. He was fiercely protective of his valued role and he needed to have continued access to the book. "We need your musical expertise."

He turned a few more pages and prodded one of the knots. The moment he touched it, she saw it the way he did, deflated and loose. After only a moment a tiny bell fell onto the page. Riley nudged it and they could all hear the perfect chime.

"Touch it," Riley encouraged Bella. "You won't be able to pick it up but it will ring for you." He handed her the book with the effort of a sibling forced to share a toy.

Bella poked the tarnished round bell and heard the pure sound again.

"Can you tell me what that note is?" Michael asked hopefully.

"It's E sharp," she said with a look at Edward, who shrugged his shoulders. "It's sharp, that's all I know."

"I knew that she would have perfect pitch," Michael smiled toward Riley.

"Actually, perfect pitch is not terribly uncommon," Edward explained. "And what Bella has is far superior."

Edward looked around and surprisingly, he saw interest. He spoke quickly anyway.

"Perfect pitch is the ability to tell if a note is in tune or not. Many people can do that, but what Bella has is called absolute pitch. It's the ability to correctly identify or create a specific note."

"Well, whatever it is," Riley replied, "it means that we're saved." He was wide eyed and excited, as was Michael.

"I don't understand." Bella looked at Edward, who shrugged his shoulders again. Emmett joined him and it looked like hunchback choreography to her. "Aren't you trying to read from this?" She noticed that the book was extremely light, especially for the amount of soft worked hide that wrapped completely around it when it was closed and bound.

"We think the notes correspond with letters," Michael said.

Emmett spoke up. "Don't they already?"

"Yes but..." Riley held out his hand for the book and Bella gave it to him. He spoke while he fiddled with a few more of the pre-loosened knots on the open page. "There are only seven letters accounted for, A through G. That's about a quarter of what we would need as a key of some kind."

_No pun intended. _Emmett's inner monologue once again turned the corners of Edward's mouth.

Riley had three more bells out of their cozy prisons. He handed the book back to Bella, who started with the first one again. She tapped them in order, listening as their different tones sprouted from the book.

"E sharp...G sharp...G...E sharp...Well...It's not very pretty."

Edward agreed. He saw wisps of lighted music rising from the book like smoke from a candle but the strange progression of all four bells from E sharp to E flat to E was not terribly inspired.

_If true G is seven then the next set of letters should be... _

She began counting by sevens and assigning other letters in the alphabet in ascending flats and sharps. Edward would never have thought of it that way but after listening to her it seemed logical, obvious even.

_...making' N' a G flat and the sharps would begin with' O'... _"Hold on," she told the group. "I want to try something."

Edward watched with the rest of them as she counted on her delicate fingers. Her thoughts began with a series of letters. s_...u...n...s._

Her eyes widened and she quickly handedthebook back to Riley. "Can you get me five more, please?"

Riley did as he was asked and handed back the book. Bella poked each one. "A flat, that would be an 'h'. B flat, that's 'I'. G flat, that's...an 'n'. And E is 'e', so...The first word is sunshine!"

Everyone was impressed.

Everyone was speechless.

Michael then slapped Riley on the back so hard that sound of it was like gunfire. "She did it!"

Riley was wondering if his mouth would ever close. He was certain that she was right, the odds of her system being incorrect and yet bearing fruit were too unlikely for him to believe anything except that, at long last, they would be able to continue.

"Bella, would you please allow us to impose upon you to complete the page before you go this evening and then to stop by every few years to listen to another?" Michael was so eager and his request, in the end was very small.

"Of course, but I believe I can have the rest of this book translated in a few weeks."

Riley laughed dryly. "It won't be that easy. I have to get the bells out first and that takes time. These knots have been loosened already." He reached out and turned to the next page to show how tight all the subsequent knots were.

Bella flicked one absent-mindedly and smiled at the muffled chime that escaped from inside the knot. "That's an A."

Michael stood up. "This is incredible!" he shouted as both hands flew skyward. He danced for a while then settled down and looked at Riley.

"You may leave now."

"What?" Riley was bubbling with stark panic.

Michael did not like repeating himself, so when he repeated the command it was laced with malice.

Riley stood up and blinked rapidly.

He left the room with a queasy look on his face.

* * *

The American Revolutionary War was relatively short, as wars go. By the time the Dutch officially recognized the United States as its own country - just under six years had passed.

It was 1782 and New York was a happy place again. British loyalists began leaving for Nova Scotia in droves and the curfew had been lifted. Michael did not subscribe to curfews.

Riley kept working the knots and every few years he had something to share with Michael.

**_Silence_**

**_again_**

**_reclaimed_**

**_the_**

**_air_**

The revolution convinced Michael to take a different approach to the governance of his men. Supported by the fact that he had already suffered a desertion, Michael was forced to see that the Americans had the right idea.

**_Even_**

**_after __the _**

**_snow_**

**_was no_**

**_longer there_**

Michael retained his leadership but gave his men the opportunity to pursue their paths and passions. In addition he offered them an equal cut in a profit sharing arrangement. He announced that he would foot the bill for the continued maintenance of the large houses lined up along Fifth Avenue. In the end, only one man left. His name was Howard and he said he was going to Italy, but Michael found him and killed him less than an hour after his departure.

**_It was_**

**_then when_**

**_the world_**

**_was fast_**

**_asleep_**

The new country moved its capital from Philadelphia to the newly designed Washington D.C. in June of the year 1800. Some of Michael's group wanted to go see the city and he did not try to stop them. They came back complaining of miserable accommodations and warned their remaining housemates that it was truly a human's world. They declared that Michael represented safety. He could have not have planned it any better.

**_That a_**

**_fur covered_**

**_man_**

**_came from_**

**_his keep_**

Riley and Michael were giddy at the actual mention of a new player in the story. They discussed his possible role at length and Riley volunteered to double his book time in order to shorten the years between verses. Michael began to grow angry at the staggering amount of people on the streets at all hours. It made the previous population booms look like dinner parties.

**_The lone_**

**_traveler_**

**_looked up_**

**_at the_**

**_sky_**

In May of 1803, the city was buzzing about the fact that America had doubled in size with the Louisiana Purchase. France was fifteen million dollars richer and Congress was scratching its collective heads. They would have considered themselves lucky to get half that land for twice the amount but Napoleon had just lost an army and the island of Santo Domingo in the Caribbean. He was simply no longer interested in maintaining a French foothold in North America.

**_And watched_**

**_as cloud_**

**_after_**

**_cloud_**

**_shuffled by_**

New York was alive and going through more growing pains. The water issues were only eclipsed by the garbage issues and both were stinking up Michael's town. He was not cruel to humans but regarded them with less and less empathy. He was reading everything he could get his hands on, but every few dozen months he would listen to Riley read the newest verse in his oldest book.

**_He could_**

**_see that_**

**_the sun and_**

**_the moon_**

**_still hid_**

As usual, when Michael wanted the poem to give him some usable information it rambled on and on about the clouds and the moon. Riley was a bit more appreciative of the big picture it was painting but took a long break just the same. With Michael's blessing, he spent almost a decade pursuing his own interests but Riley's interests eventually ran back to the book.

**_And_**

**_wondered_**

**_just what_**

**_his fellow_**

**_man did_**

In 1814, Washington DC was occupied and burned by British troops. Michael had stayed out of the revolution but this was different. He took a dozen men to the capital city to take it back. Cautioned by those who had been there previously, Michael arranged for his army to first recapture and then occupy the Library of Congress. They would have comfort and safety in its lower levels.

**_While_**

**_they stayed_**

**_misguided_**

**_under_**

**_their dome_**

The capital was rebuilt and Michael was back in New York when news arrived that Napoleon had finally...finally...finally been defeated in Waterloo, Belgium. Michael had enjoyed the Emperor's exploits but, after warring with the British soldiers to take back Washington DC, took joy in his defeat. America would only be strengthened by his return to Paris. History would record that he sent a letter ahead to his wife, Josephine, requesting that she not bathe, for he wanted to smell her the way he remembered her when they were last together.

**_His faith_**

**_was_**

**_a bit_**

**_closer_**

**_to home_**

Riley had been obsessed by the murky image of the lone wolf described in the poem and quizzed Michael on religious characteristics that might clue them in about his beliefs. Michael directed him to some useful books and two of his housemates, Frederick and Reginald, who had collectively logged more time on religious studies than anyone else in the group. They had even gone to Italy to read books that had not yet been copied. They came back with a few as a gift to Michael.

**_And he _**

**_was _**

**_prepared _**

**_to reseed _**

**_every hill_**

Michael became perplexed in 1821 when _free_ Africans in New York were given the right to vote yet slavery was still legal. He asked his longtime friend, Boston, how he thought the two extremes could co-exist and the political scholar explained that one would actually help achieve the other. He told Michael that when it came time for New York to follow Ohio's lead and pass a law against slavery that Africans would vote their brothers and sisters free.

**_But the _**

**_world_**

**_was _**

**_mourning_**

**_still_**

Michael had stopped hypnotizing his men but continued to use humans as his personal marionettes. He periodically made them strip and fight each other for his own amusement and he was materializing in and out of rooms with increasing regularity. He was even able to grab hold of something he wanted and take it with him in a silent vanishing act.

**_And although_**

**_he could _**

**_go out _**

**_day_**

**_or night_**

Michael could be quite normal for days at a time but then would lash out at people without warning. He seemed impatient, distracted and emotional. Slavery was abolished in the state of New York, because as Boston predicted, the voter turnout was astounding, especially among freed Africans. They helped to evolve a new world order concerning human rights.

**_He kept_**

**_himself_**

**_mostly_**

**_out of_**

**_sight_**

In late April of 1831, Michael went to see the premiere of _The Lion of the West_ at the Park Theatre. It was a comedy that involved a woman juggling three suitors.

It made him simultaneously want to visit Paris and Kentucky.

* * *

Jacob wrote a letter to Bella on the morning of July sixth. He was sitting at the kitchen table while Esme cooked breakfast and the smell was so enticing that he was genuinely worried that a droplet of saliva might escape his mouth, smearing the ink.

_Bella,_

_We have arrived safely in Paris and already sold the _

_Cullen estate for more than expected._

_We have made contact with Laurent, who is doing quite_

_well and even gave me a hand with Jasper's bottles. _

_He asked if I thought that he would miss one and I nearly_

_choked telling him that I was certain of it._

_We are packed and ready to return but we will _

_wait for word from you concerning the situation in _

_New York._

_If we hear nothing by August, we are coming anyway._

_Jacob_

He kept his message short because he knew that Esme was nearly ready with breakfast. He mailed it that afternoon when they all decided to use their current location and funds to find Rosalie a wedding dress.

She and Jacob had made promises to each other in Versailles and told Esme over breakfast that they intended to marry.

"Maybe even before Edward and Bella, if they don't hurry up," Rosalie grumbled.

Esme was thrilled and made the suggestion that she treat the couple to a Paris original. She took them to Worth's _haute couture _andeven gave Jacob ice cream money when he got fidgety.

Rosalie tried on exactly nine dresses and did not need the tenth. She found her gown. It was Victorian and looked more like a court dress but its numerous embroidered pink and red flowers along the hem reminded her of the gardens where she agreed to marry Jacob. It was eggshell white, almost cream, and had a luxurious round train with more fine floral embroidery.

When Jacob returned, he was not allowed to see the dress despite his protests that Rosalie was no longer wearing it and therefore was not breaking any traditions.

He lost that fight.

But he was allowed to carry the box.

A few days later, they were paid a visit from an appraiser employed by the bank. He toured the home with Esme while Jacob and Rosalie played billiards in Carlisle's study. The books on the bookshelves were bare but the table was staying.

"I made twenty bucks playing billiards one night in New York," Rosalie boasted after mowing a lot of lawn to sink her seven ball.

"Surely, you don't mean to say that you frequented one of those places without a chaperone?" Jacob put his hands on his hips, a trait he had already picked up from her.

"Of course not. Garrett took me."

"The glass guy?"

"Yes. He told me that billiards was all about geometry and that I was a natural." Rosalie punctuated her statement by smacking the cue ball into the three ball with a loud WHACK that left it rattling in the pocket. "He was right." She smiled and made her way to another shot.

"You hit the ball too hard," Jacob said casually.

"I most certainly do not!" Rosalie was touchy on the subject. Jacob arched an eyebrow. "Alright, I do….but I can't stand playing it short."

"You will learn quickly." Jacob rolled his eyes. "Just like chess."

Rosalie laughed and made a combination shot that set up her second ball perfectly after the first one had gone in.

"See?" Jacob responded. She only had the eight ball left and that was just as well since he could hear Esme and the appraiser nearing the room.

"I know this table. I never played much with the cues but, as a child, I rolled the balls across the felt for hours."

Jacob pictured the yellow haired angel child racing around the table that came up to her chin. He wished he could have known her as a young girl but considered himself lucky to have found her when she was still breaking in her twenties.

Esme and the appraiser entered the study. They all exchanged nods while she told him about the _single slate _table. He was sufficiently impressed, both with the condition of the piece and her knowledge of its manufacturing.

"Carlisle was...is...very proud of the fact that the felt is stretched over a solid piece of slate, not a split piece." She was rattled by accidently referring to Carlisle in the past tense. Rosalie saw her swallow hard and carry on flawlessly. It wasn't until dinner that night when she finally brought it up.

"I don't know what came over me." Esme was staring at her salmon stuffed green peppers. "I hope I'm not tempting fate."

"I think fate is on our side, Mother." She and Jacob had graciously accepted Esme's gift of the wedding dress with a little more ease once they saw how well she did with the appraiser.

"You're right, dear." Esme smiled weakly but she was beginning to believe. "I'm just being superstitious."

Jacob had three stuffed peppers, American corn on the cob and half a loaf of fresh baked bread. He listened to the mother and daughter talk to one another and noticed that they were now speaking as equals. When they left for New York at the beginning of the year, Esme was still very much Rosalie's mother but the two women had developed a new relationship in Jacob's absence. He observed it with approval.

He wondered how much the trauma of being kidnapped by Michael had contributed to their close bonding and free exchanges, but suspected that the women were already well on their way to becoming friends by the time the theatre was completed.

Esme slept in her own bed that night. Technically, it was now owned by the bank, and in three weeks time she would either have to be at the _Hotel d'Angleterre_ or on a ship back to New York.

And back to Carlisle.

Esme closed her eyes.

* * *

Carlisle opened his eyes when he thought he heard his name.

The back of his head announced every heartbeat with fresh pulsing pain but he did not feel any signs of an external wound. He suspected that he had not been unconscious for very long.

The ropes crisscrossing on top of him were heavy and offered little in terms of a view. He was certain, however, that he heard Jasper say Alice's name and moved his head back and forth, looking for the source. He also began using his tongue to push the large handkerchief from his mouth.

He found a small gap in the ropes above his right eye and saw a distant square of light above his head.

The handkerchief was almost out when the light was briefly blocked by someone jumping down through the hole in the ceiling. Carlisle was still bound by ropes and trapped beneath the weight of even more but he used everything he had to throw himself against the wall, hoping to avoid the majority of the impact.

Jasper, although not as fast as Edward, was able to see his landing area shift as he dropped the thirty feet in what felt like slow motion. He kicked his foot out, making contact with the wall and skewing his approach to the ground.

Jasper landed with only one foot in the ropes and could immediately smell how close he was to Carlisle.

"Alice! Wait!" Jasper checked the passageway behind him to be sure that he was alone.

"What is it?"

"Carlisle." Jasper reached in and pulled his friend out from under the ropes. Alice watched his actions and dropped through when both men were standing.

"Are you alright?" Alice cut the rope at his feet while Jasper sliced the bonds at his wrists.

"I'm fine," he said irritably. "They saw right through me."

"We couldn't have known that we were going to run into the actual Senna," Jasper remarked, inspecting the man's head after Carlisle put his hand up to it twice. "And you, my friend, have a concussed skull."

"I'm lucky. He wanted you to accidentally kill me."

"I almost did." Jasper was somber.

"Who is down here?" Alice asked.

"One human and one vampire. They spoke of a boat. I think there is an underground river somewhere down here."

"There is." Jasper and Alice answered in unison but she further explained the tandem statement. "We can hear the water and from the sound of it, it's big."

"And fast," Jasper added.

"Do we follow or do we retreat?" Carlisle asked.

"We aren't going to pursue them with an injured member in our group," Jasper reasoned. "Besides, we got what we came for."

"My bag is back there," Carlisle announced.

"I'll go get it," Alice offered.

Jasper shook his head. "We should go together." Jasper had never used a doctor's bag. As a mortician, his tools were usually surgical and therefore remained on his work table, awaiting his use.

They crept forward, Jasper up front and Alice in the rear. They reached the one and only chamber Carlisle had been allowed through and his bag was sitting in plain sight. Jasper took the opportunity to scout the adjoining rooms and, a few moments later, his echo chased his voice into the chasm.

"Come take a look at this!"

Carlisle and Alice walked through a laboratory of some kind and through a narrow opening where the sound of rushing water reached even human ears.

"Be careful," Jasper warned. "There are only a few feet of a ledge."

Carlisle poked his head in and Jasper took his arm. Alice followed and stared sixty feet down at a dark blue channel that occupied the bottom portion of a very large cave chamber.

"There's another ladder," Carlisle pointed out. "That one isn't cut."

There was a sheer drop but a shelf near the surface of the water would have been a good dock for a vessel.

"We don't need to go any further," Alice went into mother mode. "We're going to get out of here." She took Carlisle's other arm and Jasper relinquished his hold as they all left the ledge. "Carlisle, you are going to sleep in the carriage under Jasper's care tonight. I am going to drive us out of town."

Both men favored the idea and they walked back to the pile of ropes below the bank vault. Jasper threw the rope up a few times until it caught a hold of something above and then Alice quickly shimmied herself up. She secured the line for Jasper, who was able to climb the ladder normally.

Carlisle stood on the bottom rung as instructed and held on while Jasper and Alice pulled him up together.

They took the cash on their way out of the vault.

* * *

When Michael returned from the play, Riley asked him for the book.

It was not uncommon for such a request. Riley often killed a few hours at night when he first started working on a new page. He liked to get that first seed and make sure nothing had changed.

Something had changed.

Riley learned over time that the sensation of the knots getting bigger was his way of making sense of the increased ease at which he was able to untie them. He had more control of his interpretations and felt like he had found a new beginning in terms of embracing the journey.

Something had drastically changed.

A round silver ball with holes in it fell from the stingy monkey fist. Riley could see that there was a small silver ball inside. It was a beautiful single closed bell, a sleigh bell.

He looked everywhere for a letter but the bell was smooth except for the slivers of missing silver.

It was tiny but made a very defined and very bold chime. Riley, not sure what else to do, began working on the next knot.

And the next.

And the next.

The Civil War had come and gone before Michael even noticed that Riley had not uncovered anything new. When he asked Riley about it, he was shown the bells. Suddenly, Riley's need to own a piano in the 1850s made sense to Michael.

"So, it's up to the old tricks again?" Michael pondered. Riley was certain that he would be angry but he seemed to take it in stride.

"I don't know how to turn these bells into a phrase," Riley reluctantly admitted. "I have tried everything."

"The last time this happened, I moved to New York from Shanghai."

"I was there," Riley said dryly.

"I'm not moving away this time but it might be nice to get out of the city."

"I could find a nice piece of land near the park," Riley suggested. He was desperate to steer the conversation away from the book.

"Above the park!" Michael exclaimed.

"I'll get something to you. Right away."

Riley found a brilliant parcel of land that sat halfway along 110th Street, right above the park. Michael allowed his companions a hand in the design of the new estate and was rewarded with a modest four story abode that boasted sixty bedroom suites, five sitting rooms, eighteen fireplaces and two carriage houses, but no kitchen and no bathrooms.

This would later prove inconvenient when Michael kidnapped the Cullens.

The house took some time to complete since the government was using up all the good contractors to rebuild both sides after the war. It was completed in 1874 but Michael took well over a decade to furnish and enhance it.

They were moved in by Christmas of 1888 and just in time. New York was undergoing another boom. Michael enjoyed choosing his victims as they stepped off the boat in Manhattan and was rather put out a few years later when the construction of Ellis Island meant that by the time people came to him they had been processed and could potentially be missed by someone.

He settled into a new routine by the summer of 1892 whereupon he sampled the warm coffee in a boardwalk diner and whispered his address into the ears of lone patrons or unlucky couples.

On one such night he entered the diner with two of his men who were likewise inclined to take a trip downtown. Michael had only stepped in through the door when his attention was caught by something he thought had just been a memory mirage.

He saw the familiar heavy gothic locket around the neck of a woman sitting near a window. He was compelled to approach.

"That is a lovely locket you are wearing, Madame." Once he got close, he could actually smell his child on the silver charm. "But it is not yours."

The man she was with cleared his throat. Michael looked at him and smiled. He then moved his gaze to the younger woman and froze.

She looked like she was about to jump across the table at him but he told her in Italian to be still and she deflated a little.

Michael quietly told his men to step forward and the male spoke up.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Forgive me, sir," Michael said, still hoping to salvage a non-conspicuous exchange. "My name is Michael and I frequent this diner often enough to know that you are new to it." He fixed his gaze on the woman wearing the locket and waited for her to feel the need to tell him what he wanted to know.

"We were on our way to..." She began and Michael was certain that he would find Bella wherever she was going. The man interrupted her, infuriating Michael. He decided that they all deserved to spend some leisure time with him. The time for inconspicuousness was gone, Michael was going to take the three humans and let the owner of the locket come looking for them.

"I am curious about you three people." Michael's voice made him sound both angry and exhausted. "And when I want to know more about something I cannot be deterred."

He reached out and grabbed the silver locket around Esme's neck and used it to pull her to her feet.

Both of her companions stood as well but Michael's counterparts were ready for them. The scuffle attracted attention of several patrons, as did Esme's outcry, but Michael silenced the diners' rumblings with a hypnotic gaze to the onlookers.

"Now," Michael pulled the woman by the chain until her nose was almost touching his. Her feet were barely touching the diner floor.

"Who gave you that locket?"

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I have been made aware of a fandom-wide response to this crisis and hope you will join me in participating in their efforts as a contributor or a donor, or both. Please visit fandomfightstsunami(dot)blogspot(com) for details.**

**I will also be participating as an author for the upcoming Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser. For more information on this event, please check the link on my author's page.**

**If you would like to read the poem in Michael's red book uninterrupted, ****I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. I****t is an interesting piece without the trappings of Brutte Parole but, in the end, its commentary is paramount.**

**See you next week for Chapter Twelve: A Farewell to Arms**

**MOG**


	12. Chapter 12: A Farewell to Arms

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**Stephenie Meyer made up Twilight and all its characters.**_

_**Morgan Locklear made up a cool dance called The Sugar Shuffle. **_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter Twelve:**

**A Farewell to Arms**

Central Park sat in the middle of Manhattan Island like the green treasure in an urban truffle. Michael's house looked over the massive expanse like it was his own front yard and his guests were treated to a view of both rivers that wrapped around it like the blue arms of a Hindu goddess.

To the south, the Theatre of the Heart could be seen sharing the skyline with several churches, some banks further downtown and the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel being constructed on 5th Avenue and 33rd Street. That particular block would later be famous for other sky scraping feats, but even half completed, the current building was almost level with the spire of Jacob's tower.

Bella gladly decoded the rest of the verse on the page that she had started. She tapped each bell and made a scribble on the slip of parchment Michael had anticipated and provided for her.

The men chatted pleasantly enough but Edward was still concerned about Michael's lack of interest in using pig blood. As a food source it would spare the good people of New York the indignity of falling prey to rich monsters.

Bella completed the verse and recited it to the group. "Sunshine returned from its long retreat."

Michael closed his eyes and nodded his head.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Emmett asked.

"It means that the story is finally moving forward again."

"Don't you think that Riley would want to know what it says?" Edward was very curious about their relationship, he was never able to read Riley well so he had to resort to asking questions.

Michael smiled thinly and spoke only to Bella. "I'm sure you can understand that this is a very personal and private affair for me." He eyed Edward and Emmett. "I hope we can make arrangements in the future that will require only one un-intrusive chaperone?"

"You invited us," Edward tersely reminded him. He was not convinced that Michael knew about his mind reading abilities but he did seem like he was onto something.

"And I am delighted that you came," Michael countered. "But you'll notice that I also excused my only companion when _he_ was no longer useful."

"You're suggesting that we are not useful." Emmett was insulted.

"I merely observed that you are as useful as Riley," Michael sneered.

"And how useful are you?" Edward shot back. He was beginning to get very angry. He feared his anger could take over quickly if he allowed it to.

"Stop it!" Bella's voice was shrill. Out on the balcony, a pigeon looked sharply at the glass panes in the closed door to the house before taking flight. "I will bring Emmett with me, is that acceptable?"

Edward looked hurt. Bella considered responding mentally but she suspected that Michael would pick up on it. "You have a play to direct, Edward." She touched his arm. "Besides, Emmett and I need to talk production and make stops along the way."

Edward begrudgingly agreed but mostly because Michael's frustrations seemed to be focused on him. He had to admit that he disliked the man's company as well. Since he trusted Emmett's loyalty to Bella as well as his ability to protect her, Edward felt like it might actually be helpful for him to remain focused on his daunting debut.

Bella arranged to drop by Michael's house the next evening and they left with a fairly good feeling about how things were going to progress.

Riley was standing in the front courtyard looking apprehensively up at the ivy, waiting for them. There was a medium sized trunk sitting on the ground next to him. It was completely lined on the outside with hard leather.

"Lawrence is a fine fellow," Riley stated casually before walking away. "He didn't deserve the way he was treated."

"Neither did you." Bella barely spoke the words but Riley heard her. Edward heard him agree. It was a moment of real clarity from Riley that Edward could never seem to achieve before. He could hear that Riley hated Michael for what he did.

He could also hear that Riley hated Bella for making Michael do it.

The cab driver that trotted them home was happy to take the counterpart to East Drive and they found themselves skirting the west side of the reservoir, Manhattan's drinking water supply. It had the characteristics of a giant pond and the bright moon hanging over it was reflected perfectly on its smooth surface.

Further along was the fairly new American Museum of Natural History. Bella wished that they had extended hours but the building was dark.

The conversation was light due to the proximity of the cab driver but once they returned to the theatre, Emmett was ripe with questions.

"How many times have you hypnotized me?" They were walking up the flight of stone steps to the four wooden theatre doors. Lawrence had seen them arrive from his perch in the tower's second floor lounge and stood at the threshold with one door open.

Edward did not have time to warn Bella that Emmett had already pieced together a nearly accurate picture of how she had persuaded or dissuaded him over the course of the last seven months but, fortunately, he did not have to. Bella told Emmett the truth as she touched Lawrence on the shoulder, an invitation to accompany them upstairs.

"Since the moment you woke up." Bella looked at Edward, as he was handing Lawrence his trunk and sighed heavily. She felt horrible but, somehow, better.

She went to the elevator and Edward got in with her. Lawrence left his trunk where it was and got in as well. Emmett did not move.

Edward had a quick side bar with Lawrence where he told their new friend that Emmett was skeptical of such contraptions. He was glad for the lighthearted distraction. He was still thinking about the exchange at Michael's house.

"Young man, have you considered the possibility that Bella could help you with your problem?" Lawrence asked Emmett.

Bella and Edward froze and exchanged a glance that made Lawrence regret the observation. "Did I say something wrong?"

Emmett turned around as Bella and Edward collected themselves. They had both instantly thought of Emmett's more substantial malady. They had been listening to Emmett argue with himself for the better part of two weeks.

"You mean my completely rational and understandable trepidation concerning elevators?"

Lawrence was uncertain and it showed. "Yes?"

Emmett walked over to Bella. "I am asking you to make me want to ride this... contraption...full of people...up to the top floor."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Alright." She stepped out of the closet sized lift and smiled at him as she looked into his intelligent eyes. "Emmett, you are a vampire. You won't get hurt even if it does fail so get on the elevator already." She was stern but not loud.

Emmett looked at the elevator but did not move. Then he looked happily surprised as he shook his head like a stubborn child. "Did I do it? Did I resist you?"

Bella shook her head. "I haven't done it yet. I just wanted to point out that it was not rational or understandable that you are scared to ride it."

"Now hold on." Emmett scowled. "No one said anything about being scared."

Bella moved to the side, offering Emmett a clear path to the elevator. "Well then, all aboard big boy."

Emmett smiled. "I know what you're trying to do."

Bella was relentless. "I don't see your feet moving."

Emmett walked past her and stepped inside. When the platform responded to the added weight by dipping slightly his eyes became as round as the stained glass windows on the lobby doors.

"We could get off," Edward offered and began moving him to the door.

"No." Emmett did not want to be trapped in there alone. "Let's just go."

"I'll walk up." Bella did not want to add to her brave friend's distress.

"You'll do no such thing." Even in times of high stress, Emmett's chivalry prevailed. "Hurry up though."

Bella hustled in and closed the door while Edward pressed the top button. The ride up was quiet and Emmett looked out the window like a sickly child wishing he could go out and play. When they reached the Corner Room, Bella led the exodus to the right and into her private residence where they spread out around the large and comfortable living area. Edward started building a fire while Lawrence looked at the books and out the windows along the east wall. Bella and Emmett went upstairs and sat with their legs dangling from the landing.

"Which do you think is more harmful? Planting a thought that makes you feel good about riding the elevator or manipulating you by questioning your manhood and giving you no choice but to prove me wrong?"

Emmett was smiling already. "You make a good point."

They sat together for a while and she took his hand.

"I never meant to deceive you but in those first few days..." She trailed off. "I'm sorry, Emmett."

He squeezed her hand. Below them, Edward and Lawrence were talking about King Alonso's costume options. "I know that I can be hard to reason with," Emmett admitted. "I have a lot on my mind."

Edward could hear that he was on the verge of asking Bella if she could hypnotize just part of someone when the phone rang.

Lawrence jumped at the loud double bells on the ringing phone like a frog on a hot road. Edward chuckled and walked out into the common room to answer it.

It was Alice and she had awful news. They were in Corbin, Kentucky using the town's only phone and, as usual, had to make a half dozen connections to get an open line to New York City.

"We were ambushed by the owners of the deeds," she began. "Carlisle suffered a concussion and Jasper says it will be a few days before he can drive the carriage."

Edward was crushed. He told her that he wanted to get his father home but Alice was ready with her response.

"Jasper said that you would say that, but he said to tell you that Carlisle would be healed by the time we got to either New York or New Orleans, so we might as well press on with the second part of the mission."

Bella and Emmett came downstairs and joined Edward. Lawrence excused himself and went to take his trunk to one of the group rooms behind the stage. Before he took the elevator down, he waved to Bella and whispered to Emmett that he would be at auditions the next day.

"How bad is he? Is he awake?" Edward was careful to gather more information before his worry chickens could become hysterical.

"Of course he's awake!" Alice felt bad that Edward had gotten the wrong idea about his father's injury. "He's been acting completely normal, but Jasper is insisting that he rest as much as possible. We are going to remain in Corbin for the next day or so anyway because Jasper says the rough roads down here are going to bounce his head around too much."

Bella touched Edward's arm as she spoke into the stationary mouthpiece. "Can we just wait and see how the next day goes? We don't have to decide anything right now."

"Hello, Bella." Alice missed her dear friend and just hearing her voice made her homesick, not for New York specifically, but for wherever Bella was. "Sure, we'll call again tomorrow night."

"Do you think we can talk to him then?" Edward wanted to hear his father's voice. All the emotion churned up earlier in the evening fed his anxious fire.

"Jasper said that you would ask about that too," Alice said. "And yes, we will all three be on the telephone tomorrow."

Alice explained everything, and nobody liked the fact that there was another fiendish vampire running around loose. "But then again, aren't we all?" Alice observed. It was not necessary to pursue him especially since they got the better of the outcomes, and all the prize money to go with it.

"Please tell my father that I love him," Edward said in place of a goodbye. He was gritting his teeth in grief, anger, confusion, isolation…everything.

"I will," Alice promised, moved by the sentiment. "Bella, take care of Edward."

"I will."

When Bella hung up the receiver, Emmett asked them both one last question.

"Are you hiding anything else from me?" He looked right at Bella but it was Edward who answered. He was at his limit's end concerning confrontation and just wanted a few moments of peace.

"No," he answered harshly and walked away.

* * *

Emmett ventured down the stairs to visit with Lawrence while Bella took Edward into the bathroom. She began issuing steaming water from the tap into the red and gold marbled tub.

"This is amazing!" Bella found having a hot daily bath that did not take an hour or more to prepare miraculous. She was hoping that her joy would soothe Edward. His day had been one falling rock after another.

When she turned around, he was completely undressed and partially engorged with need. Part of him wanted to be alone, but another part of him knew that it was Bella who could stop the world from spinning just long enough for him to regain his footing.

He wanted to let her hair dress his stomach and he wanted to feel her arching back under his supportive hands. He wanted it all and from the thoughts he was receiving from Bella since she closed the door to their wing, she was more than willing to oblige.

She drank him in as her hands worked the buttons of her own fashionable trappings.

Edward watched as she slid out of one lacy thing after another and, by the time her milk smooth skin was bare, his appreciation had grown by measurable amounts. Bella flashed a mischievous smile and when he approached she grabbed him with both hands and squeezed.

She looked appreciatively at her catch as she put one hand on top of the other and began slowly moving both fists up and down. Edward noticed that her breasts were being pushed together seductively.

Bella saw his interest and sat on the edge of the tub, lowering herself enough to welcome his hard warmth between her plump silky curves.

Edward gasped, then sighed and steadied himself by placing a hand on her shoulder.

She trapped him against her chest and used the friction of her skin to bring soft perfect moans from her lover's lips. Bella glanced at the wall of his muscled stomach and moved her gaze upward to his sculpted chest while she pressed on either side of her breasts with her hands. It was already a snug fit but the increased pressure made Edward's eyes widen in a luxuriant pleasure.

The tub had filled while they kept themselves busy and Bella slipped into the warm water with a feminine twist. She glided over to turn the tap off.

Silence was all that was left, at least for Bella.

She could tell that Edward was still listening to a thousand threads. He had told her that most of the time he could pretend that it was non-coherent gibberish, like a flock of birds, or like his father once suggested, the ocean; but sometimes he got sucked in and he confessed that it drained him deeply on those days.

"Why don't you tune out the rest of the world for a while, Edward?" Bella stood up and the water hugged her body for as long as it could before slinking down her hips and legs in reluctant rivulets. "Let me help you block out the noise." Her voice was soothing. She could have talked him into anything as he stepped into the hot water and they collapsed into each other. Bella slid back and down with Edward between her open legs.

He closed his eyes while his wet cheek rested against her soft hair. He imagined that he had discovered a way to get from the barnyard, where his emotions and memories were kept, to the factory building where he could flip a switch to keep outside thoughts from invading his mind.

In his mind's eye he looked down affectionately at his worry chickens as they scurried out of his way and also noticed a few cats he had never seen before. They sat like spies on a fence in the outlying fields and observed him with cool superiority as he went into what he called the switch house. He emerged a moment later with a look of exquisite relief on his face.

Edward opened his eyes and took in the silence along with Bella's succulent body.

"I think you're right," he whispered into her shoulder, letting his lips brush her skin. "I will turn it off every time we make love and during other sacred moments."

She appreciated how he really listened to her advice. It made her feel as important as when he first told her he loved her. She guided his lips to hers and leaned her head back into the water as he covered her with his body. He held the back of her delicate neck in one strong but gentle hand as he moved his tongue around the tip of hers.

Bella arched her back and let the world become muffled as the hot water filled her ears. Edward eventually lifted her up to him as he sat back on his knees and kissed her neck ferociously.

She would remember to tell him that he did not need to read her mind to do what she wanted him to.

Her legs draped over his hips and they were both suddenly in a hurry to feel the delicious moment of penetration. Bella arched her back and lifted her inviting pink crease up for his attention. Edward nuzzled her matted brown curls and placed kisses in all the right places before he rose up on his knees and did what he knew she wanted most.

His fingers were spread over her curved bottom as he pulled her hips up to meet his. She floated on her back and in the moment he entered her, the stars behind her eyes exploded into white blooms.

Edward proceeded slowly but forcefully and each thrust was punctuated by a cry of pleasure from his prostrate lover. She reached behind her and grabbed the faucet partly to help balance herself and partly to keep Edward from pushing her head into it. He was moving fast enough to make the water choppy but he was merely getting started.

Edward pulled her toward him, allowing her hair to flow out behind her on the water and then wrap around her shoulders like a shawl caught in a tide. He did this over and over again and the elation was combustible even though the sensation of skimming the water was quite relaxing to her.

Edward was lost in the quiet reprieve and devoured the feel of her. He imagined what it would be like to be a tiny man, walking on the flawless landscape of her body. Regular waves lapping occasionally over her stomach would get his legs wet and almost knock him over as he made his way to the delicious valley of silk slopes created by two violet capped buttes.

He stopped, just long enough for her hair to stop moving and start sinking and he waited until she found his eyes.

"I love you Bella, thank you for this." His sincerity was evident but she was compelled to reply in kind even though she knew that it would come out humorously.

"Oh no, thank you."

Bella wanted her mouth on his and sat up to attack him with a ravenous kiss. Edward was not ready for her and yelped as he went backward into the tub and sent a huge wave onto the stone floor and over their clothes.

He wrapped his arms around her and let them sink to the bottom of the wide basin. Bella felt him, immediate and impressive and pressing into her with greedy desire. She made a fluid dancer's adjustment and then completely swallowed him in her sensual velvet vice.

She sat up out of the water but he remained on the bottom and they both watched as their shimmering images made love to one another. Bella could just reach the edges of the tub with outstretched hands and she held onto them as she rose and fell with measured movements designed to squeeze every last drop of contact between them before plunging back down into oblivion.

Bella could not help but smile when Edward cried out in climax because a little collection of bubbles was what came from his mouth and rushed to the surface of the water with urgent pops.

She pulled him to her and caressed his dripping face as he looked at her with wonder. She loved the feeling of caring for her man, knowing that she was everything to him that he could ever want in a partner. He was generous and affectionate to her daily and she wanted to be his saving grace when the shadows grew too small to hide in.

He found that he enjoyed looking at her and not knowing her mind. Her eyes talked to him in a different way. An art he lost along with his heartbeat. He was going to spend the rest of his life loving her and making sure she knew it.

They took turns washing each other, each standing while the other lovingly covered them with soap. Edward thought to save them considerable time by pulling Bella to his lathered body.

As it turned out, his idea did not save them any time.

They stayed in the tub until the water grew cold and then re-warmed each other in bed.

* * *

By the time Jacob's letter reached New York, Bella had listened to the chimes cradled in hundreds of knots and deciphered several pages for Michael. Emmett, as previously discussed, was her singular chaperone but spent most of his time making small talk with the former priest.

He was very interested in Michael's theological background.

Bella spent approximately a half an hour at Michael's house each evening and he was constantly complaining that she did not stay long enough to read more. He was discovering clues with every verse and was becoming very possessive of her time. Bella finally put her foot down one evening. Michael backed off but struck a bargain with her. She could come over each night at her own convenience, if she would remain long enough to read completed verses, two pages at once.

She agreed to the terms and Michael even encouraged her to translate both pages entirely before revealing their contents to him so he could hear a verse from beginning to end in one swift breath. Something he had never dreamed of hearing.

While she worked, Emmett and Michael gave Bella some privacy by having their conversations out on the balcony in the Central Park treated evening air.

On Bella's first night back, Michael asked that she only transcribe the rest of the verse she began the night before. She did so and read it completely to him with pride.

_**Sunshine**_

_**returned**_

_**from it's**_

_**long**_

_**retreat**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**And filled**_

_**the rivers**_

_**and **_

_**lakes**_

_**with heat**_

Riley appeared calm when they saw him all that week. He had even seen to it that the theatre's lobby floor replacement was completed before the first rehearsal of Edward's play. The new floor was blue-grey with ribbons of black so dark that they looked like cracks in the earth, complimented with slashes of gold so large that they were literally rivers of wealth.

_**The**_

_**Earth man**_

_**Set about**_

_**helping**_

_**plants grow**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**But there **_

_**were places**_

_**he still **_

_**would **_

_**not go**_

Carlisle himself told Edward he was feeling "as right as rain," and was ready to go deeper into the south, but the group was now forced to question the need to rise up against Michael at all. Bella argued that he had settled down and even had begun switching his diet to pig blood. Jasper argued that this was their best chance to test his old alliances in Louisiana, even if for no specific purpose while Edward argued that having his father safe was his priority. He also felt that having Alice back in New York in time to help with the costumes would be most helpful. Jasper won the debate and the three of them were in Birmingham a week later.

_**The Sun**_

_**greeted **_

_**him**_

_**early**_

_**each day **_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**And kept**_

_**him**_

_**company**_

_**all**_

_**the way**_

Rehearsals for _The Tempest_ were going smoothly. Emmett and Lawrence were even helping with the set construction during the day. Edward's plan for the ocean water was simple and elegant: he would use huge bolts of blue cloth and have stagehands move them up and down over stage lighting. It was going to take many hands and oceans of fabric but when he described it to Bella, she was certain that it would be a masterpiece.

_**It took**_

_**some time**_

_**before**_

_**the flowers**_

_**bloomed**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**But the**_

_**air was **_

_**eventually**_

_**well**_

_**perfumed**_

Bella spent more and more time using the New Franklin typewriter at the desk in the tower's third floor library. She was still working on her story about Rose White, a cute but clever crime fighter working behind the scenes in a New York City police precinct. Her soon-to-be-sister-in-law was the perfect inspiration for a strong and intelligent character.

She also used the futuristic machine to write Jacob a response wherein she expressed her belief that they could come back home whenever it suited them. She relayed the events in the South but assured them that Carlisle's injury was mending tremendously well and that Esme should not worry. Lastly, she informed them that they would likely beat the other trio home because they were traveling through Mississippi and into Louisiana before returning to New York.

Michael did not discuss the book with Bella like he had done with Riley. He seemed solely focused on just getting through it. Bella was secretly interested in the man described within its pages. She had seen the name Johnny Appleseed since moving to America and thought of him as she listened to the uneven melodies that the tiny capsulated sleigh bells made for her each night.

One evening, Michael asked Emmett if they had heard from their friends in Paris and Emmett confirmed that they had.

"Have they met with good fortune concerning their assets?" They could hear Bella ringing and singing through the cracked balcony door.

"Extraordinary luck!" Emmett shared enthusiastically.

Michael smiled deeply and looked out over the colossal park. "I had a feeling that they might. Are they returning soon?"

"I think so," Emmett replied.

Michael did not ask any more questions of Emmett that night. He had found out what he needed to know.

As a director, Edward liked to work a scene over and over rather than run a whole act. This gave the actors a chance to implement suggestions and changes immediately and cement them in the moment at hand. Acting was about being natural and it was the little things that sold that aspect of the craft. Some of the experienced actors marveled at Edward's techniques and they all felt lucky to have his guidance.

They built a huge ship right onstage, knowing that they could not have possibly gotten it into the auditorium in one piece. It was to be used at the beginning and the end of the play and Edward wanted it to be complete with functional rigging and a crow's nest that would safely hold an actor forty feet above the stage floor.

He was not banking on Alice returning in time to render the costume design so Bella took charge of the issue and found a few nearby seamstresses who gladly took measurements and began basic patterns that would be enhanced as the show progressed.

Emmett and Bella made many side trips on their way to and from Michael's house on _Tempest _business. They found that a simple phone call was all it took to get anyone to agree to extended hours on any particular evening. Their prop list was shortening by the day, they interviewed and hired stage technicians and they continued cultivating the good relationships Emmett had with the various newspapers and publication houses in the city.

When they saw any police officers who happened to live with Michael above the park, they were pleasant and, more than once, assisted with an errand by clarifying directions or offering the duo a ride home.

Things seemed to be very good.

And that was why Edward became convinced that it was all about to go very bad.

* * *

Carlisle was back on the whip's bench and feeling good.

Jasper and Alice drove the carriage at night while he slept, then they settled into its protective clutches while Carlisle rested the horses and explored the ancient looking Mississippi towns on foot during the day. He kept seeing bicycles and was tempted to buy one but Jasper sternly reminded him that peddling around on a bike in the hot southern sun while healing from a head injury was out of the question.

He was feeling fully recovered, however, and had not even had so much as a headache since the second night. The new mission to visit with Jasper's old friends with no real objective was far less stressful and they were all enjoying the rich land they rolled through.

When they did switch back to their original traveling arrangement, they were crossing into Louisiana and Carlisle was glad that he was not seeing the beautiful jungle-like state through the thick smoky glass of the carriage.

The air was a curtain of moisture both day and night and Carlisle was especially mindful of the horses. They were completely black and during the hottest part of the day they were positively steaming. They were therefore sheltered during the hottest part of the day and well rested at night.

This left Carlisle alone once again in the middle of the day. He took up fishing, horseshoes, fishing, whittling, fishing and bicycling. His favorite activity was bicycling but it was not as easy to manage. At first, he had to remain out of Jasper's sight so he would find a kid who would rent their ride for a nickel. He paid ten cents if the kid could point him toward a big hill and push the bike back up it when he was done.

Somehow, Alice always knew when Carlisle had gone for a ride and it ended up being a shared secret between them. Once, when they were sitting along the banks of the Mississippi River in Baton Rouge, Carlisle asked her how she could tell he had been riding, but she had just smiled and shaken her head, preferring not to inform him that it mussed his hair up in a unique way.

Jasper had been off that night checking places he had once known but came back to tell them that he found nothing and that New Orleans still seemed like the best place to find anyone from his past.

"I am finding plenty of vampires but they're all young," he said in frustration. He had been a part of a vampire war that was fought between the skirmishes of the Civil War. Some patriotic vampires had the bright idea of turning a whole regiment of Northern army soldiers. The southern, or so-called Grey vampires_,_ did the same but much too late. The North won on both fronts.

That war harshly informed hundreds of immortals that their title was in name only.

Jasper told Alice and Carlisle about the war he participated in nearly a century before as they came in from the west, witnessing the French influence on the Louisiana landscape. They followed the Mississippi River past the Lac des Allemande only to end up between Lake Cataouatche and the immense Lake Pontchartrain, which marked the northern border of New Orleans.

The first time Carlisle laid his eyes on the soggy city the sun was behind him. It looked like a kingdom floating on a toadstool in a sea of fire.

They all immediately liked the spicy smell of New Orleans and, after only one night out, Jasper and Alice reported that it was positively lousy with vampires.

The hotel they stayed in had thick plum curtains that denied the sun's intrusion while Alice and Jasper slept and made love. When the sky darkened, they threw the curtains aside and left the window open to help the room collect as much of the cooling bayou air as it could before they closed it back up at dawn.

The vampire couple swept through the city like a gust of dust and could not get enough of the nightlife. If there was ever a city to rival the late night energy of New York, it was New Orleans.

With Jasper's blessing and Alice's grin, Carlisle bought a blue and white bicycle on his first day and rode it around with a big bug catching smile on his face.

Jasper said it was permitted as long as he was allowed to ride the bike too.

They called the theatre in New York three times while they enjoyed a week in a city that was filled with more music than a player piano. They told Edward that he was most certainly missing a fireworks display of sound along Bourbon Street. He and Bella were both interested in the description of the music that drifted through the open doors of well-patronized businesses along the river downtown.

Jasper and Alice talked to dozens of vampires and not one of them knew anything about Jasper or his friends. Like always, they were too young, post-revolutionary vampires who were, at their most senior, just crossing the half-century mark.

"I think this whole trip is a bust," Jasper mumbled into a French Quarter phone very late one night.

On the other end of the line, Bella and Edward sat on tall bistro stools borrowed from the Eighth Avenue lounge in the tower below them. The Corner Room was turned into an atrium of sorts as July wore on. It now had several stools and a table and the potted plants that Lawrence brought in from the garden filled the walls nicely.

"I'm sorry you can't find your friends, Jasper." Bella looked at Edward, who looked a little too pleased with the news.

"Do you think you could be back in two weeks?" Edward asked hopefully.

He and Bella could hear all three of their laughs erupt from the ear piece that sat crookedly on top of the bell box. His unabashed insensitivity in his attempts to get Alice back to New York increased with each day that Carlisle's strong voice calmed one more worry chicken from Edward's already be-fowled barnyard.

It was Carlisle who answered him. "There is no way to get there any faster than four weeks without taxing the horses beyond maximum performance."

"You sound just like Jacob," Bella told him.

"Where do you think I got it from?" Carlisle spoke seriously. Jacob had spent two hours educating the doctor about his beloved animals. He had an exceptional student in Carlisle, who fully comprehended and complied with each of Jacob's instructions.

"A month!" Edward was kidding about the two weeks and they all knew it, but he was legitimately horrified about the reality of twice that. And they knew that, too.

New laughter sped past each other in the phone lines as everyone, except Edward, struggled to compose themselves.

Jasper was glad that everyone was lighthearted about the subject. He knew that they failed both objectives of the trip but, as long as the circumstances no longer warranted their absence, he was keen to let it go.

"I think I might have some better luck in Arizona," he offered, waving off the surprised looks from Alice and Carlisle.

"ARIZONA!" Edward's panicked exclamation bubbled out of the heavy black earpiece that Alice held in a giggle loosened hand. They all laughed and, this time, Edward joined them.

"We have discussed it and we think its better that we just come home," Jasper announced, wanting to make sure he actually said the words if only to make it real to himself. He never expected to come up completely empty. He had even considered losing the deeds a lucky break because it meant that he could skip the sightseeing and go straight to Louisiana.

"We just received a letter from Jacob that said they were planning to leave Paris on the second of August." Edward declared. "You could be in Georgia by then."

"It's settled then," Carlisle said, excited to hear that his wife was due in New York in about two weeks time. "We'll leave tomorrow."

When Alice hung up the phone, she hugged Carlisle and said something he was hoping she would.

"Let's get a few miles in before dawn."

Jasper was nodding his head like a puppy following a bouncing olive.

* * *

Bella enjoyed watching play rehearsals. She and Emmett usually stuck around to make announcements before hailing a cab to Michael's estate each evening. Edward was an actor's director and was very successful at getting the most from his characters.

Emmett was still not needed but, when Edward put the show together for a full run-through, he would need his stage manager. Bella would be going to Michael's house along during rehearsals soon.

_**At night**_

_**when**_

_**the moon**_

_**turned **_

_**things blue**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**The man**_

_**went out**_

_**in a**_

_**little**_

_**canoe**_

It took Bella about forty-five minutes to sort out two full pages, and although it was not hard work, she still felt drained after the transcription and recital of the verses. She had gotten in the habit of singing the melodies even if they were inconsistent and garish because occasionally she would find a verse that had a haunting and deeply complex tune.

_**But he**_

_**was**_

_**witnessed**_

_**by the**_

_**sick**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**And they **_

_**envied**_

_**how he**_

_**recovered**_

_**so quick**_

Bella pitied the people in the book already. She learned even as a human that people feared what they did not understand, but in the last week of July 1892, she learned that if fear could plague multiple races, then perhaps those races shared other traits that could reveal their fundamental similarities.

_**He held**_

_**the key**_

_**to their**_

_**very**_

_**existence**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**And they**_

_**hated him**_

_**fiercely**_

_**but from a**_

_**safe distance**_

Edward went with her occasionally when her trips were pushed to after rehearsal, but Emmett was taking his chaperone role seriously, so seriously that he did not relinquish it easily. Michael was agreeable but it was clear that he preferred Emmett's company and retreated into a book whenever Edward was around.

_**They**_

_**resented**_

_**that he was**_

_**healthy**_

_**and free**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**While they**_

_**suffered**_

_**through**_

_**no such**_

_**guarantee**_

Edward was anxious to get a call from his returning friends and family in the South. They anticipated not making contact until they reached Atlanta, so that meant that the sooner they called the closer they were. Lawrence and Emmett decided to become roommates and Emmett reported that he had been regaled with stories of considerable dissension among Michael's disciples.

_**The two**_

_**races**_

_**worked **_

_**together **_

_**at long last**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**But only**_

_**to revisit**_

_**crimes**_

_**of the**_

_**past**_

Bella was caught up in the book and furious at the ignorant actions of the people within. She tried discussing it with Michael but he was still unwilling to enter into a dialogue about it. He simply thanked her and allowed Emmett (or Edward) to escort her home.

There was tension in the house, they could all feel it.

_**They**_

_**captured**_

_**this man**_

_**and cut off**_

_**his fur**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**He begged **_

_**them to stop**_

_**but they**_

_**would not**_

_**deter**_

Bella immediately thought of Jacob when she read the verse, and to her horror, Michael immediately asked about him.

"Tell me…is your friend, Jacob, as old as you are?"

"Yes, nearly so."

"Hmm." Michael dropped the issue, but Bella still cancelled the following day's meeting with a regret-filled phone call citing a hectic production day for _The Tempest_. He was immediately suspicious and she knew it, but she had to stall.

She desperately wished that she could tell Jacob to stay in France but he was scheduled to have boarded a ship that morning. She knew that he would consider the events fortuitous but Bella cursed their good fortune in Paris.

She went back to Michael's the next day feeling like she had no choice. She attempted to reassure herself by remembering that Michael did not really know anything, after all. And he certainly did not know that Jacob was due back into town the following week.

_**He was**_

_**the cure**_

_**they**_

_**treated**_

_**like mud**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**They should**_

_**have**_

_**studied,**_

_**not spilled**_

_**his blood**_

The revelation was worse than she anticipated and Bella knew she could not give Michael any more information. It was hopeless and when she asked Edward for help, he cleverly wrote a filler verse for her. He told Bella to use it in the event she uncovered any more clues that would point to the existence of someone like Jacob.

The blood, she should not have read the part about the blood. It haunted her all that day.

Bella recited the false verse over and over in her head but was relieved to find that the book offered a bit of assistance for once. She decided to save her facsimile for another time and allowed Michael to hear the true words because they acted as both a moral and a mystery.

_**In time**_

_**not a soul**_

_**would**_

_**remember**_

_**his name**_

_**-**_**\-0-/-**

_**And **_

_**they**_

_**only had**_

_**themselves **_

_**to...**_

Bella was just beginning to recite the word 'Blame' when Riley stormed the room with five other vampires.

She recognized most of them, soldiers all, and among the biggest of Michael's stock.

Riley went straight for the book. He was making ready to grasp it with both hands and was prepared to pull with all his might while all five of his accomplices slammed the balcony door, creating a barrier between Bella and her companions.

Michael shouted with rage as he comprehended the insurrection.

Bella quickly accessed her options.

She could dodge Riley with an elbow to his nose, a treat for herself, but an act more likely to place her in further danger.

She could engage him in hand to hand combat and push him back out onto the balcony, picking him up and flying him up to the clouds before dropping him.

Then, Bella saw the very formidable wall of vampires between her and Michael and had a brilliant idea.

She held the book out to Riley with a great big smile.

"Take it quick," she whispered over Michael's muffled but rage filled screams from outside.

* * *

After Michael had cut him out of the loop, Riley needed to buy time while he set up a residence. More importantly, he needed to undermine Michael's authority and take some vampires with him. He spent enormous amounts of money on the new lobby floor for Bella's theatre but it was Michael's money, not his own, that he dipped into.

He siphoned riches from Michael for over two weeks, all the while listening to him rejoicing over his new good fortune.

Riley felt like he had a right to the book and if he was going to be summarily denied access then he would have to adopt a similar stingy policy when it became his.

Getting others to join him was little more than a matter of money and he chose those who had been treated harshly by Michael in the past for infractions that never warranted the punishments they were subjected to.

No one wanted to leave New York but Riley found a place in Brooklyn, off the Island and therefore largely off the grid.

His plan was simple: take the money, take the men and then take the book - in that order. He got the money alright, almost all of it. He got men too, but not as many as he hoped and that miscalculation meant that he met more resistance than he had planned on.

He had to act fast one afternoon when he was certain that a vampire he had approached, Boston, would inform Michael about Riley's mutinous inquiries as soon as his master had concluded his meeting with Bella.

He did not want to hurt Bella even though he blamed her partially for the situation, but then again, he had wanted this for over two centuries and she finally gave him the reason to make his move.

He gathered his five renegades together quickly and rushed into Michael's sitting room before any of them could change their minds.

He saw the book and immediately hungered for it. Just as he suspected, the men were on the balcony again and his crew performed their jobs beautifully. The woman was cut off.

Riley charged for the book and was completely blindsided when she offered it to him like it was a cookie.

"Take it quickly," she had told him under her breath and he did not have to be asked twice. Riley plucked the book from her small white hand, wrapped it up and stowed it in a pocket sewn into the lining under his left arm.

He looked down as he secured his prize and when he looked up he saw a savage smile behind a savage punch to his mouth.

Bella wanted to sell the struggle and knew that the satisfaction of getting a few punches in would only serve to make her day that much better. Riley recovered quickly and swept her legs, knocking her to the ground.

He jumped on top of her but she was already rolling to her feet. When she head-butted his nose, he screamed in fury.

Michael's angry shout split the night and was his only indulgence, everything else was calculated. He disappeared from the balcony and arrived in the room just behind Bella.

"He has the book," she told him.

Michael responded by taking a hold of Bella. On the other side of the row of vampires, Emmett was tearing the door apart to get inside.

"You have the book," Michael spat at Riley, "but you can't finish it without her."

Bella felt a strange sensation, like her blood was made of champagne. Her vision all but left her as she floundered in a speckled torrent of lights.

When she did open her eyes, she was alone with Michael.

It was oppressively dark and her new surroundings smelled like a cave. Michael clamped a very heavy shackle to her ankle before she even knew that she was able to move again.

"Where are we?"

He said nothing and disappeared before her eyes.

She walked a few steps in around the large cylinder of earth and stone, dragging an anchoring chain behind her. It was heavy to move, even for her, and she could see that breaking it was impossible.

Bella was trapped.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Hello Everyone,**

**Sorry about the goofy posting times these last two weeks. As many of you know, FF has been experiencing technical difficulties lo these many days. Rest assured we have found a way around the problem and will begin regular posting next Saturday (except for a pre-scheduled break between Act One and Act Two, but I will address that in next week's notes). The good news is you are only six days away from the next update so you can look at it like I did you a favor. You're welcome.**

**I have been made aware of a fandom-wide response to this crisis and hope you will join me in participating in their efforts as a contributor or a donor, or both. Please visit fandomfightstsunami(dot)blogspot(com) for details.**

**I will also be participating as an author for the upcoming Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser. For more information on this event, please check the link on my author's page.**

**If you would like to read the poem in Michael's red book uninterrupted, ****I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. I****t is an interesting piece without the trappings of Brutte Parole but, in the end, its commentary is paramount.**

**See you next week for Chapter Thirteen: East of the Sun**

**MOG**


	13. Chapter 13: East of the Sun

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight**_

_**Morgan Locklear has to ask his wife how to spell 'Stephenie Meyer' every week.**_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**East of the Sun**

Saying goodbye to Paris was like saying goodbye to a child. One knew that there would be changes as time marched on, but one could hope that the beauty and character would never be lost.

True to his word, Paul drove Jacob, Rosalie and Esme to Le Havre. He even gave them a hand with the cargo when they boarded the impossibly large ocean liner, _The City of New York_. It was a ship Jacob had been interested in since its sister ship, _The City of Paris_ was first built.

It was only about twenty feet longer and taller than the La Touraine but there was still something miraculous about the fact that something that big could actually move. It had three black slanted smoke stacks, making it look like it was doing twenty knots even when it was in port.

Jacob, Rosalie and Esme were all given single cabins, which they were fortunate to receive upon booking their last minute passage. It seemed that the entire world had decided to flood to America that summer.

They did not mind since they would be spending most of their time on the polished wooden decks or dining in the most magnificent floating restaurant ever conceived.

The women liked _La Touraine_ as a ship, and they absolutely adored her captain, but the ocean liner that shared its name with their destination was luxurious on a level that was only matched by a royal palace.

"It reminds me of Versailles," Rosalie breathed to Jacob over dinner on their second evening at sea. They spent their nights together in her tiny room and he was grateful that he did not have to attempt to sleep on such a scrawny bed. Even if he were suddenly granted the ability to merely close his eyes and let his consciousness float away, he did not believe it would happen on a two by six mattress of cotton stuffed canvas on springs.

They made love in the cabin once but found the cramped space uncomfortable. After that, they explored the ship like two mice, taking advantage of quiet and warm spots to passionately embrace.

They made love in lifeboats, dark kitchens, momentarily unoccupied lounges, the radio room, in a large storage room where they found crates of soft fox fur to cushion their intertwined bodies, and another storage room filled with neatly coiled ropes.

When it was time for Rosalie to sleep, Jacob would sit against the wall on the floor of her cabin because the only chair in the room squeaked under his weight and made her cheek twitch. He was quite happy to read by lantern light with his back to the cool ship's hull and admire Rosalie's sleeping form.

He was reading a book called _Leaves of Grass_ by a New York author named Walt Whitman, who had only recently died. Rosalie had become a fan of his when his public funeral made headlines.

The book had been waiting for Jacob in his New York library when he first arrived at the Theatre of the Heart and Rosalie had insisted that he bring it on the journey to Paris.

"It's a book of poems," she had told him, "you'll love it."

He did not believe her at the time but had found a lyrical quality that he greatly enjoyed; especially a poem called _I Sing the Body Electric_.

Jacob let the sea and his lover's heartbeat serenade him while he read words of sometimes emotional wit and sometimes ugly logic.

Late one night, he heard the fluttering of wings and was convinced that a moth was badgering him, but he never saw so much as a shadow. To his astonishment, he heard it again that afternoon at lunch. Since, however, he did not wish to dart his eyes around like a lunatic, he waited for someone else to spot the mysterious creature.

No one did, and when he heard it yet again the following night, Jacob began silently searching the room for the source of the noise. When he finally discovered it, he was stunned.

The fluttering noise originated from Rosalie.

Coming from her belly was the sound of a tiny but determined motor chugging away excitedly. To Jacob it was a foreign yet familiar sound, like wings of a bird or the babbling of a brook. He understood immediately what it was.

And then he wondered if Rosalie knew.

* * *

"I didn't see where she went."

Emmett was at the theatre, disheveled and mortified. He found Edward alone on the stage, quietly making notes about a scene in the play and was forced to break the news that Bella had been taken by Michael.

"Riley and a bunch of Michael's men came in and blocked our path to her."

"What do you mean by _our_ path?" Edward demanded. He was not being given a clear picture of the events and it was frustrating him.

"Well, that was the funny thing." Emmett had not witnessed every detail. All he could do was tell Edward what he knew. "I was standing next to Michael on the balcony and they barricaded the door. He became furious and did his disappearing act."

"So he was never really blocked by them," Edward observed icily.

"That's what I thought at first..." Emmett was just getting to the interesting part.

"…That the whole thing was staged for my benefit, but before they threw me off the balcony I heard Bella tell Michael that he had the book."

Lawrence was in his room behind the stage at the time and could tell just from Emmett's tone there was a crisis being discussed onstage. He heard every word as he walked through the green room and went through the stage door.

"Do you mean Riley?" Lawrence asked, crossing the redwood floor.

"Yes. I think when Riley took the book Michael panicked and took Bella. I heard him say something about not being able to finish it without her and then I found myself on my back in the courtyard."

"I need to go and see what I can find out," Lawrence concluded. "I'll return with news as soon as I can." He ran out the door before another word could be spoken and Edward was beyond grateful for his immediate action.

"Did Riley say anything to you at all?" Edward asked Emmett.

"Everything happened so fast. I jumped right back up onto the balcony but by then everybody was already scattering. I never saw Michael or Bella so I hid and followed Riley and his group across the Brooklyn Bridge. I know where they are, but they don't have Bella. I'm sure of that."

Edward nodded his head with a pained look on his face. If he had gone with Bella to Michael's house instead of Emmett, he might have heard it coming.

That was the moment when he first began to blame himself.

Edward went over and over with Emmett what he had seen while they waited for Lawrence to return. They discussed the option of getting the book back from Riley. It could be used as a bargaining chip with Michael when they found out where he had taken Bella.

Their biggest problem was that all their friends were weeks away and they were woefully outnumbered without them.

"Can't you just speed over in a blur and take the book before they even know you're there?" Emmett's suggestion was serious and Edward put his hand to his chin while he deeply considered the simple plan.

"You say you know where they are hiding out?"

"Yes. They live in the top floor of a three story compartment building that looks like it was built a hundred years ago."

"What is on the first two floors?"

"Humans."

"Why would he choose that location?" Edward knew that Riley must have had a reason for the residence.

"I think it's because he knows we won't set the building on fire to draw him out." Emmett had considered the various reasons while watching the building for an hour before slinking back to the theatre to inform Edward he had failed to protect his fiancé.

"He's crafty," Edward commented.

"He's dangerous," Emmett corrected. "But I think he might make a play for Bella and he has a better chance of finding her than we do right now."

Edward knew Emmett was right, but for the time being all they could do was wait.

* * *

Jacob watched Rosalie closely on their third day at sea. More to the point, he listened to her. When she sneezed, the little flutter sped up a bit, and when she hummed to herself, it slowed. Rosalie acted completely normal, if not a bit excited to be returning to New York so quickly. Jacob was rapidly convinced that she was unaware of her condition.

His biggest indicator was how normal her mother was acting.

Jacob was decidedly not acting normal, however. His nervous demeanor, along with his profuse perspiration, was beginning to alarm his travel mates.

"Jacob, dear," Esme whispered over breakfast in the sun draped dining room. "Are you seasick?"

"No, I'm fine." He was actually thrilled at the idea of being the father to Rosalie's child and would not even allow himself to consider the eventual pain he would be forced to endure when he attended his son or daughter's funeral.

"You look like you're sitting on a porcupine," Rosalie observed with a fork of fluffy omelet. Jacob took note that she was eating more breakfast than usual. He was mostly nervous about whether or not he should tell Rosalie and wondered how much longer it would take for her to discover it on her own.

Jacob did not know much about her womanly cycles but, looking back, there had been no break in their coupling since their reunion in New York.

When the couple took their mid-morning stroll on the large main deck of the ship, Rosalie giggled at something he said and the sound made Jacob's eyes prickle more than the salty breeze ever could. They held hands with their fingers laced together like a corset.

"Jacob, I have something to tell you." Rosalie blurted out as they were walking under the shade of an upper deck along the starboard side.

"Anything." Jacob was suddenly nervous again. Maybe she knew after all.

"I want to get married at Saint Patrick's Cathedral on 50th Street."

Jacob stopped. It made perfect sense that she wanted to get married as soon as possible. He decided to make it easier for her to divulge anything else by instantly agreeing with her.

"Absolutely. We can be married there as soon as we return. If that's what you want."

"Are you mad?" Rosalie was laughing with shock. "We need to plan something like this!"

"Well…don't you want to get married soon?" Jacob nudged.

"Of course I do, but I was thinking after Christmas."

Jacob blinked and began walking again.

She didn't know.

When the ocean rocked her to sleep that night, Jacob placed his ear to her belly and could hear the fluttering heartbeat incredibly well. It was always going so fast and he worried that it would tire itself out before their baby emerged into the world.

Each night thereafter he would spend hours with his head on Rosalie's stomach, listening to the blood whoosh in her veins and her steady deep pulse as it shared blood with the urgent thrumming inside her.

Rosalie became queasy when they were about a day from land and, although it was a rarity for her to be ill at sea, she seemed to treat is as such. The ocean had been a bit rough that day.

Jacob knew otherwise.

That night, their last on the open sea, Jacob had his ear comfortably resting on Rosalie's stomach. He drifted into a trance where the symphony of heartbeats followed him into his own thoughts. Jacob was back in his mine shafts, but he was taking explosives deep within its tunnels. He was going to demolish the unhealthy system in which he dealt with loss and pain once and for all.

He knew that he had to be emotionally available to both Rosalie and his child so he loaded the place with dynamite. Before going through with the detonation, he decided to discuss the matter with Edward, who had offered to help him in the past.

Jacob felt that he might need a partner for what he had in mind.

"What are you doing, Jacob?" Rosalie's sleepy voice jolted him out of his daze where the change in her breathing had not.

"I was just listening to your heartbeat," he responded quickly.

"My heart is up here." She tapped a thinly draped breast and a wry smile crossed her lips. "And you usually like this area."

Jacob looked into her eyes with deep intensity. Finally, he saw that she knew.

"You can hear it can't you?"

"Yes." He gently touched her stomach with his hand, like he was going to feel their child move at any moment. "How long have you known?"

"Well, when I woke up and saw you listening to my belly a full ten days after I had missed my usual…I had a good idea I might be…"

"Pregnant," Jacob spoke the word gleefully. "You are going to have a baby."

Rosalie had never thought of herself as the maternal type, but now a future appeared before her. It was a life caring for Jacob and his child in an exciting environment where they could all pursue their wildest dreams and now it seemed completely within reach.

"I'm pregnant." She tried the words on for size. They fit nicely.

The couple embraced on the tiny bed and Jacob felt like he had been waiting his whole life for that moment.

"Please don't make me tell your mother," he whispered gently in her ear.

* * *

Lawrence returned to the theatre with both good news and bad news. Edward was uncertain which was which.

"The whole compound is in chaos," Lawrence announced as he walked in with eight vampires. "Michael did take Bella. No one knows where he went but he has been spotted appearing in the houses - taking objects, or people, and then disappearing again. Everyone is abandoning ship."

Edward's mouth opened in surprise. "Michael disappeared with her?" He did not know how he could combat that kind of mobility.

"Yes. Riley has told everyone that he already had a safe residence and most of Michael's wealth. Half of the soldiers went with him. The other half remained or had been taken already. We came here."

"I can't protect you." Edward confessed. He had seen for himself how easily and eerily Michael could appear within the theatre walls.

A Chinese vampire named Yan stepped forward and although his voice was modest, it carried the force of an army. "You don't understand. We are here to protect you."

"We think he will attempt to contact you," Lawrence elaborated. "Honestly, we don't know what Michael is thinking at this point, but Riley is long gone. Michael knows that making an enemy of you will mean fighting two wars at once. Our speculation is that he is going to come here to convince you to join him."

"Join him!" Edward laughed harshly. "What are you talking about?"

Boston had a way of calming people; it was a byproduct of his size. He stepped forward until he was directly in front of Edward, and then earned a squeak of surprise as he picked up the perplexed vampire and hugged him like a lost doll.

"You have shown us kindness and wisdom since you arrived, and all you have gotten in return is abuse." His voice was choked with emotion. "We watched Michael kill three of our friends just now and take four others to God knows where. We need you as much as you need us."

"Has it gotten that bad?" Emmett asked.

He received his answer from Walter, his sky blue eyes shining from under his dark gray hair. "It's been brewing for a while now, son. We just didn't think it would happen this soon."

"What else do you know?' Edward asked Lawrence.

"He has about half of the footmen," Yan answered. "And we think he is still in the city."

"How do you know?" This is what Edward needed, a place to start.

"Even when he is in that form, he still has to travel. He can move fast but his frequent trips in and out of the house suggest that he has her hidden close by.

"Riley is in Brooklyn," Emmett shared. "I saw where he went."

Several of the vampires smiled. In addition to Lawrence, Boston, Yan and Walter, the other outcast scholars included Sam, August, Sean, Caleb and Dillon. They had all been turned by Michael in the late 1630's and had led relatively sheltered lives under his care despite their educational allowances.

"What is he going to do with her?" Edward asked no one in particular.

"He might actually be protecting her from Riley," Lawrence offered. "Riley can be…impulsive."

Edward was not convinced. "If he is helping her, that's not his objective. He is using her and I am going out to find her." He felt like he needed to get out on the streets and start listening.

"You shouldn't go alone," Emmett suggested.

"You shouldn't go at all." Boston was determined. "Lawrence is correct in his prediction of Michael's next move…he will come here…and when he does you need to be ready to talk…and we need to be well hidden."

Edward hated the idea. He wanted to do something useful. He agreed only because he did not want to miss the phone call from his father that was expected sometime later in the evening.

"Where can we hide you that he can't see?" Edward asked himself out loud.

"Some of us should go back to see if we can get information and salvage any of our lab equipment," Walter said.

"Yes, please. Do what you can and I will work on the problem of hiding you when he pays us a visit," Edward replied.

"He won't hurt her," Yan told Edward in a comforting tone as they walked up the auditorium aisle. "He has deep, fraternal feelings for her and I'm certain that he is only keeping her away from Riley."

"Thank you." Edward responded. "I hope you're right. Bella has a way of antagonizing people."

* * *

"You miserable horse's ass!"

Bella's bellows floated around the dark, damp room every time Michael reappeared with a chair or a person or an armful of books.

She was in a big space, clearly underground, and it stretched out in both directions.

Bella was going to get out one way or another and when Michael absent mindedly wandered too close to her limited half circle of influence, she tried to attack him, but her heavy chain scraped the floor loudly with every step so he, of course, had turned to dust in her hands.

As his voice filled her ears, she smelled moss. "If you do that again, I will leave you here to rot." His next words were barely a whisper - they could have even been from inside her mind. "And before you die you will go crazy… just… like… me."

Bella thought suddenly of the Cheshire Cat from _Alice in Wonderland_, and it produced a strange combination of emotions. She was mostly disgusted.

Each time Michael left, Bella studied the room from the limits of her heavy tether. She could plainly see that it was an abandoned train tunnel, complete with two sets of rails and must have stretched a half a mile long.

It was different from other tunnels she had seen, and older, but somehow ahead of even her time.

Michael had been fascinated with German science and discovered the forgotten railway after reading of their experiments with electrical current driven trains. They had not completed their work before abandoning it, but Michael had applied their knowledge and installed a third electric rail alongside the other two and had bolted several metal boxes along the wall that had wild hairdos of wires sticking from their tops.

The boxes were humming so loudly that Bella could not even hear the street above her. She did see through a neat hole in the ceiling where one could climb up a set of rungs bolted to the stone wall. If she could get loose, that would be her way to freedom.

Michael brought twelve men down with him in the first few hours and Bella rolled her eyes at the biblical implications. Each of them initially looked as outraged as she felt but he spoke quietly with each one after they arrived and they became efficient and complacent helpers thereafter. They climbed liberally up and down the ladder as they set about their assigned tasks.

Expletive after expletive issued from Bella's fervid lips but Michael paid no attention to her as long as she continued to keep her hands to herself. He also warned her that turning any of his men against him would be the last mistake she ever made.

"I will spare your pusillanimous men." Bella said sharply, but honestly, knowing that such action would be a death sentence for them. She believed his threat. They were no longer friends and she saw that he knew it. Unfortunately, that meant he no longer cared about her safety and that put her in greater danger.

She wondered if there was any room left to make things easier for them both before things got worse.

"Michael?" She waited until he had stopped his near constant specter escapades. "I know you need my help to finish the last pages of the book and…"

"What I need," Michael sneered, "is for you to just sit there and behave until your boyfriend comes for you."

"Edward?" Bella was confused. "What do you want with Edward?"

Michael laughed. "Not that boyfriend. Your other one. Your absent protector, your pet."

Bella's heart would have stopped if it had not already been still for three centuries. She was furious at his disrespect for her oldest friend but she was far too concerned for his safety to address it.

Michael had already known something was different about Jacob and the poem told him what to do once he got a hold of him. She had given him exactly what he needed.

"Jacob?" She attempted to appear to misunderstand. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Just make sure you don't try anything stupid," Michael warned. "I have a feeling that I have all the information I need from my book and that I may have no further use for you."

Bella decided to go for broke. "Do you think that drinking his blood will change you back?"

Michael laughed again. "And let myself become mortal so you can break my spine like a pretzel?"

"Do you really think I would do that to you?"

"You would love nothing more, I suspect." Michael seemed quite rational, but Bella could not hear the riot in his head.

Bella was offended, insulted even, and it made her want to break his spine like a pretzel. "If you want Jacob's cooperation then why hurt him?"

"I never said I wanted his cooperation." Michael walked away after that.

He already had the lights along the ceiling turned on and the necessary equipment to keep everything running but complained that his wayward scholars could have done it in half the time. He had brought an enormous amount of household items that did not seem necessary and Bella began to wonder just how unhinged Michael had become.

Sometime near dawn on the first day, Michael curled up into a ball and wept. Bella went over to comfort him despite her disgust for the monster he had become.

"Leave him be ma'am," one of the other vampires had seen her and intercepted. "He doesn't like being touched when he's like this."

"What's wrong with him?"

"We call it hibernating. It happens when he's upset or tired."

Bella wanted to just snap them all out of their mental haze, but did not dare go any further with her questions. The gentleman was already looking at her with glazed eyes and she was not ready to call Michael on any of his threats just yet. Besides, all of them working together could not break the massive chain that held Bella to her small circle of influence.

She projected every waking thought to Edward as loudly as she could, but unknown to Bella, Michael had thought of that too.

* * *

The call from Atlanta came three excruciating hours later, and it was just in time.

Edward told them everything about what happened to Bella and when he got to the part about the refugee vampire scholars holding up in the theatre while predicting an imminent audience with Michael, Carlisle said, "I know where to put them."

"Where?"

"Remember how I had to raise the fifth floor to accommodate the roots of the garden trees?"

Edward did remember. He even recalled that Carlisle had said the space was nearly four feet high and one could gain access near the front door of his wing. Edward ran to his door and opened it. Upon quick inspection he lifted a section of the floor out.

Emmett saw what he did and immediately began moving towards the tower stairs. "I'll go get them." Within moments, Emmett had marched all nine vampires down into the root cellar. He stayed down there with them as well and handed Edward the section of floor to put back after he jumped down. It was a large area, as big as the garden itself but anyone taller than four feet had to stoop to walk.

Edward returned to the phone and told Jasper, Alice and Carlisle that he might have to fight Riley for the book before he could get Michael to give up Bella.

Jasper was not happy to hear it.

"Do not try to take him without us, Edward. And I can try harder to find more men. You have a pretty good start there but if I could just bring a few more…"

"I think I would feel better if you just came home as quickly as you can," Edward admitted.

"Alright, Edward. We will do that but we're about three weeks away and we will need you to get as much information as you can before we get there. We need a plan."

He was right, they needed to come up with an intelligent solution and that would require a lot more information than they had. Edward had to use his new friends, his abilities, and anything else he could in order to be prepared when they arrived.

"I will negotiate to keep her alive until we can figure something out," Edward sighed. "Michael obviously wants her to help him so he has no reason to harm her. I just need to figure out where to start."

"What are you going to do, son?" The concern in Carlisle's voice was heard all the way from Georgia.

The garden door opened and Michael stepped inside. "He is going to get my book back for me."

Jasper, Alice and Carlisle all heard Michael's voice over the other end of the phone.

"What have you done with her?" They heard Edward demand.

The line went dead.

"We have to get to him faster!" Jasper was wild-eyed with worry for his friend.

"He has ten vampires right below his feet," Carlisle reminded them. "Besides, from what you two tell me, Edward can handle himself."

"Michael is seven hundred times stronger than Edward and can disappear at will." Jasper countered. It was effective.

Alice gasped anyway. "They need us, Jasper."

"What if you two went ahead without me?" Carlisle proposed. "How fast could you get there?"

"We're not leaving you, Carlisle." Jasper responded sternly.

Carlisle turned to Alice. "How long would it take you to get from Atlanta to New York?"

She looked at Jasper as she answered, implying that he would correct her if he disagreed. "Two days, maybe three but we would lose time looking for proper shelter."

Jasper was proud of Alice's pragmatic assessment and her focus on appropriate sleeping arrangements. He nodded his head unwillingly.

"Now hear me out," Carlisle persisted. "I spent six months living in New York and overseeing the construction of the most elaborate buildings ever conceived. I can certainly drive up the East coast for a few weeks by myself. You two need to get to Edward as fast as you can and I expect you to both leave just as soon as I hug you goodbye."

Alice hugged him. "Call when you can."

Jasper patted him gently on the back when he received his hug. "You are always good in a crisis, Dr. Cullen." Jasper suddenly longed for simpler days when he was discussing some patient back at the Val de Grace Hospital in Paris with the best human friend he ever had. "We'll go as fast as we can."

"About that," Carlisle said as the hug broke apart. "Edward told me that when he and Bella went to Spain last year that they spent days underwater. Could you swim during the day and run at night?"

The two vampires looked at each other. Alice almost knocked him over when she flung a kiss at him and Jasper exclaimed, "You're brilliant!"

They went to the carriage and drank their fill of the pig blood that filled the honey kegs under one bench. "This should last us until we get there," Jasper estimated between gulps. "We might just swim the whole way if we're any good at it."

"You will do him no good if you are exhausted when you get there," Carlisle cautioned. "You should make time to rest."

They left shoes, coats, and clunky weapons behind. They took only the clothes on their backs and Alice's coin purse filled with gold dog dollars. Jasper was not sure how successful they would be at getting a butcher to sell pig blood to a couple of dripping wet customers, but he would try nonetheless.

Jasper led Alice straight east and into South Carolina. They passed a hamlet called St. Stephen an hour later and could already smell the sea air. They jumped into Bulls Bay shortly afterward and experimented with different swimming strokes until they found their rhythm.

Alice kept her arms and legs together, wiggling like a guppy. She quickly swam through the deep salty shoreline like a bullet from a gun and had to wait occasionally for Jasper.

Jasper swam like a frog.

It worked for him and he made good time, but Alice was glad she was ahead of him and did not have to watch the spectacle.

By dawn, they were cornering Bald Head Island. Had they travelled by land they would have been forced to stop for the day, but they made it all the way to Virginia Beach by sunset.

It was there that they rested and fed from fresh pigs, having paid a sizable compensation, before striking out again. Their goal was to make it to Atlantic City by dawn, but they got all the way to the Mystic Islands before the surface above their heads twinkled with danger.

They were close enough to New York to know that they would get there well before it was safe to leave the water, so they made love amidst the islands rising to greet the day off the shore of New Jersey.

They would time their arrival for just after sunset on the same day that the ship from La Havre was due to arrive in New York Harbor.

* * *

Esme was eating a grapefruit in her cabin when Rosalie made her announcement.

"Mother, I'm pregnant."

Esme started laughing.

Rosalie was not known for her tact and her mother was the last person who needed to be reminded of that fact. It was not the pure surprise of the announcement that started the giggle fit but it helped.

"Mother!" Rosalie expected her reaction to be a tad more elevated. "Get a hold of yourself."

Jacob was behind Rosalie and had not even gotten the door closed when the declaration was made. He gasped like a damsel seeing a dragon and pushed the door closed with a bang. He turned around and gaped at Rosalie with eyes big enough to rival the twin portholes in the room.

Esme mistook his shock at her daughter's indiscretion for genuine surprise about the pregnancy in general. What initially got her laughing was the sight of him as he displayed the most wonderful look of flabbergastedness she had ever seen in her life.

He looked to her like a baby after it was frightened by a loud noise, in that moment of time before it begins to cry.

The moment was compounded when Jacob stepped up to Rosalie and mumbled, "Maybe I should have told your mother."

Esme was then in the grip of a stomach squeezing knot of hysteria and was completely inconsolable.

It was even funnier to her that Jacob did know about it. He appeared to be shocked at Rosalie's historically horrific display of etiquette.

Esme was very surprised, of course, but in a different way than would have been predicted. She understood that her children were in committed relationships, but because they were with supernatural people, she had come to terms with the fact that grandchildren were likely never to grace her knee.

The happiness at knowing that she had just been given a million happy moments crept into her laughter and released tears that only encouraged more tears.

She recovered with the help of all four corners of her handkerchief and a full glass of water. Then she hugged Rosalie. She kept their bellies apart even though she knew it was unnecessary, but she savored the joy of caring for the delicate bud anyway.

"When is the wedding?" Esme finally asked.

Understanding bloomed on Rosalie's face and she turned to Jacob. "So that's why you were talking about getting married as soon as we get back."

"Well, I'm glad to see that one of you has the decency to consider it." Esme interjected.

It was Rosalie's turn to laugh. "You should have seen it, Mother. If he had his way, we'd be married before we got off the boat."

Jacob raised a finger. "We could, you know. Ship captains make good side money providing such a service at sea."

"Not without my father." Rosalie looked at Esme. "I want them to be together for our wedding."

"I saw Long Island to starboard on our way in here," Jacob said. "We'll be on land in five hours anyway."

"How are we going to get all our stuff to the theatre?" Esme asked.

"They have dock wagons that they use to pull cargo," Jacob explained. "I'm going to hire one to give us a quick ride up town. It should be quite easy to manage especially in the middle of the day."

"We'll use the carriage entrance on 34th Street and use the elevator," he added brightly, proud of his plan.

"You have always been very organized, Jacob," Esme said. "We should let you help with the wedding."

Jacob looked at Rosalie, who shook her head. "No thanks," he answered. "I'll just pay for it."

"Well, Carlisle might have something to say about that." Esme warned.

Jacob smiled broadly. "I doubt it."

* * *

Carlisle left Atlanta listening to a chorus of barking dogs and made it to Athens on his first solo day on the road. He realized that his traveling experience was not all that different from past weeks with Jasper and Alice; he was alone in the sun and went hours without speaking to anyone except the horses, Jessica and Rebecca.

Carlisle was a competent but not overly skilled coachman, but the sister mares were seemingly clairvoyant in their ability to predict instruction. Carlisle liked how their ears would twirl when he used either of their names and how they blew into his face in greeting each morning.

Jacob had told him that the horses would communicate by putting their noses together and alternate breaths, inhaling the other animal's air. They would also do this to Carlisle and Jacob told him that if he blew back at them, they might continue the ritual. Jacob believed it would be a bonding experience worthy of pursuing.

Carlisle took his advice early on the trip and had been exchanging the occasional hello, in the mornings. In Louisiana, Alice observed the exchanges and had been completely mystified.

Both she and Jasper had seen horses nose to nose their whole lives but did not know the significance of the action. One evening she asked if she could try it. Carlisle merely stepped aside from Jessica, the lead horse, and offered her the last of the apricots he was feeding to the very satiated madam.

Alice's hair blustered off her forehead when Jessica lowered her head and puffed air in her fresh face. The unexpected force of the salutation made Alice giggle and miss the opportunity. She tried subsequent times but was never able to get Jessica, usually the most willing, to repeat the gesture.

It was an optional custom and usually reserved for initial introductions.

Carlisle shared breathing greetings with both beauties a few times during his trip and felt that he was successful because he stayed relaxed and pleasant and never sought the contact.

The morning he left Athens, he had a prolonged conversation with Rebecca that included trading six or seven breaths with the usually timid creature. The new Liverpool bits seemed to have curried him some special treatment even though the purchase was a fortnight old.

He saw several travelers on bicycles and as he moved closer to the coast noticed that the air was remarkably cooler as well. He worked the horses well into the evening if they had had a good noon rest and lunch, and if he had napped a bit himself.

It took Carlisle three more days before he felt the Atlantic breeze and still had not gotten to a phone. He feared that he would have to wait until he got to Norfolk before he could find a big enough exchange. It was a week away but he was not about to backtrack down to Charleston.

He hoped that his son was alright but he knew that it was a foolish notion. His fiancé was taken, his friends and family were mostly away, and when last Carlisle heard him, he was arguing with the most sinister man Carlisle had ever met.

Or so he thought.

For although Carlisle did not know it, he had recently met another such man and although he was not as mad as Michael, he was vengeful and resourceful and solely focused.

Carlisle was being followed.

* * *

Edward hung up the phone accidentally. He put the earpiece on top of the phone box like they had done many times before, but it rolled off a few seconds later. The cord landed across the horseshoe cradle and brought it down, breaking the connection. "What have you done with her?" he demanded.

Michael stepped forward and spoke thunderously. "Watch your tone with me boy." Michael's thoughts were on the surface and he was already considering killing Bella because he felt it was a lost cause.

"Just let her go, Michael," Edward groaned. "I am begging you." He had wanted to match bite for bite in the dog fight but he already felt defeated.

Michael froze. He cocked his head to the side and sniffed the air. The garden door was open and New York's musk commanded the room.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

Michael vanished.

He reappeared a moment later. "What are the beds for behind the stage?" he asked menacingly.

"Actors," Edward replied.

"Ha!" Michael was clearly not convinced.

"Why don't you go back down there and sniff around for vampires then."

"I already did."

"What did you smell?" Edward prodded.

"Lawrence."

"And?"

"Humans," Michael admitted, but he was still on alert and Edward knew it.

Michael looked into Edward's open doorway. "I have recently had one or two friends go missing."

"Me too!" Edward yelled at him, knowing that it would earn him another reprimand but welcomed the opportunity for distraction.

Michael did, in fact strike out. He was going to prove that he was in charge once and for all.

But Edward was not there.

He was standing to Michael's left and had a hard hand clamped around the old man's throat. Michael was about to make him pay for his audacity by taking Edward down to his subterranean abode and continue the conversation there before killing them both, but the clever lad quickly removed his hand and backed away.

"I could have killed just now and you know it, Michael!" Edward's voice was strong but his hands were shaking.

"Kill me, and you will never see her again." Michael stepped toward the garden door. "But I do not really need her…or you. I was going to ask you to help me find Riley and make short work of this nastiness but I think I'll just kill her instead. Good evening."

"Wait! I'll do it!" Edward watched the smile spread across Michael's face like a rash. 'But I'll need time." He was close to losing her and he knew it.

"How much time?" Michael asked.

"Three weeks."

"You have two weeks to get me the book or she dies." Michael disappeared and, in his place, a river breeze carried the smell of wood smoke through the door.

Edward sank to his knees.

He was a destroyed man on a fool's errand with a witch's fate.

"What am I going to do?" His sob fell from trembling lips and joined sorrowful drops that turned into wet flowers on the floor.

Emmett had heard the entire exchange from their damp and earthly hiding place among the giant canvas bags. He stood up with the section of floor raised above his head.

"Why don't you ask God for help?"

* * *

**NOTES:**

**This is the end of Act I. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and will be ready to begin the final act of Brutte Parole on Saturday, April 16th. **

**I appreciate all the kind emails and reviews, thank you.**

**I'll be using the small break to work on two outtakes for the Fandom Fights Tsunami and ****Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraisers. If you would like more information on these events, please refer to the links on my author's page.**

**See you in two weeks for Chapter Fourteen: West of the Moon.**

**MOG**


	14. Chapter 14: West of the Moon

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**_

_**Morgan Locklear owns a Peruvian nose flute (sounds dreadful when I attempt to play it)**_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**West of the Moon**

Pink evening water in Heartwell Lake reflected Carlisle and his equine company as they camped out for the night. He had wanted to push on towards Greenville, but it was hours away and the lush countryside looked like the perfect place to watch the moon pass overhead.

Carlisle needed little by way of provisions but he purchased plenty of food and water for the road anyway. He obtained a few bags of oats for the horses, and with all the extra space in the empty carriage he could have bought dozens more.

The horses were allowed to graze on the dark rich grass and disturb the smooth surface of the lake. Carlisle sat on a nest of blankets and furs he placed just within reach of a stern oak that filtered the last shreds of sunlight into his modest camp.

He assumed that by this time his companions had arrived in New York, and that his wife was also back in the country. He laced his fingers behind his head and watched the stars appear in little clusters, enjoying the peaceful moment in an otherwise fast-paced year.

After he tethered the horses for their safety, he ate peaches from a jar along with some deer jerky. Then he took a quick look at the backs of his eyelids.

The wind picked up in the morning hours and Carlisle turned his back to it. Under the tree the horses nuzzled each other, their velvety ears touching.

By false dawn the weather was positively sour and Carlisle was considering the possibility that he could lose an hour wondering if he was ever going to fall asleep. He knew the horses were awake; they were snorting at the brisk morning and stomping the last of the clover. They seemed downright agitated.

Carlisle opened his eyes after he heard the click.

"Don't move Dr. Craven." Nicholas was pointing a shotgun at Carlisle, his curled mustache shuddering in the near constant gusts of wind. "I would prefer not to kill you at the moment, but if left with no alternative…" He allowed his prone prisoner to complete the thought.

Carlisle nodded his head slowly to communicate his understanding. Some small part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity that he could be shot by someone who did not even know his name.

"Good work, Nicholas." Jeremy was climbing into the carriage. Carlisle instinctively flinched, but the gun was raised to his eyebrows and he settled back down.

"Your vampire friends traveled in this carriage during the day?"

Carlisle nodded.

"Hitch up the horses."

Carlisle was allowed to rise, and under trained gun prepared the animals for travel. Rebecca huffed in his face and Carlisle was so focused on his task he did not respond. She nudged him with her nose then and commanded his attention.

She huffed again.

He huffed back.

She twitched her ear and huffed again.

He huffed back. He looked into one of her bark brown eyes.

She stomped her foot as if to remind him that she had tried to warn him.

"I know," Carlisle acknowledged and saw that Nicholas was already on the bench, waiting with one of Carlisle's blankets wrapped around his shotgun.

He climbed up and cleared his throat. "Where to?"

"Where are your friends? The ones who killed Senna?" Nicholas demanded.

Carlisle cleverly answered quickly, a touch too quickly. "New York."

Nicholas rapped him hard with the wrapped gun. "Don't lie to me! Where are they?"

Carlisle sighed heavily. "Boston."

Nicholas smiled. "Drive."

Carlisle breathed a little easier. He felt like Nicholas and Jeremy had won the first round but he had won round two. They had him in their power, but he was not who they wanted.

And he would make sure that they never found who they wanted.

* * *

The group of vampires hidden among wrapped tree roots in the low but large stone chamber directly below the garden suddenly froze. The area also stretched below both wings of the theatre but the group had to stop moving the moment they heard Michael speak above them.

They were highly intelligent but deeply sheltered vampires, who even after being given their independence over a hundred years before, had remained in Michael's shade.

They communicated with their eyes as they listened to the heated exchange above them between Michael and Edward.

Boston was so big that he had to scoot forward on his behind and remained seated while the others either knelt or stooped. They stood in two groups slightly apart but close enough to see each other's expressions.

After Michael delivered his ultimatum and left, they remained still and quiet for a while. It was Emmett who finally stood up with the floor piece raised over his head.

"Why don't you ask God for help?" They all looked over at Emmett's lower half as he climbed out of the enormous planter.

Edward had not been expecting a suggestion like that, and coming from Emmett, it meant Bella's salvation. She would be able to hear a message from Emmett's God voice and perhaps assist in her discovery and rescue.

That is if Emmett could forgive him.

Surprise was painted on Edward's face like clown make-up. He blinked sense into himself and swallowed hard as he regretted every decision he had ever made concerning Emmett.

As he took in a breath to say his friend's name, Edward was weakened by a shudder that shook fool earned tears from his overwhelmed eyes.

"Emmett..." He did not get far before being walloped again by emotion. He had to wait out several stinging tears on already raw cheeks. "…I know you can talk to God."

Emmett was not expecting the statement, and certainly not from someone in such an emotional state, but he answered quickly.

"I can." He nodded his head like someone had just asked if he could saddle a horse, or suture a laceration.

"Do you think you could get Him to help me?" Edward's request came out in a gush of words and water.

Emmett had never seen Edward so distraught. It was more unsettling than he would have guessed to see someone like Edward so torn down.

Emmett drew his friend to him, put an arm around his shoulder and walked out into the cool garden. They stood near the chess board while Emmett walked around the pieces and asked a few questions.

"You mean to say that you can hear when God is talking to me?"

"Yes. And so does Bella."

"Well, what does He say?"

Edward's lip trembled as he realized that he was about to explain how he had witnessed Emmett's abuse and done nothing to help. "I have heard Him tell you both wonderful and horrible things, Emmett." Edward considered a few examples. "When we were on _La Touraine_, we stopped Jacob from beating you in the race because of the threats we heard in your head."

Emmett reacted as if he were slapped in the face. He looked at the open garden doorway when a face appeared in it, floating on a smudged body. Lawrence had just crawled out from under their very feet and nodded to the two men before pulling the door closed. Edward could hear the concern in their minds as they followed one another down the tower stairs. He let his new guests and their thoughts mix with the surf of New York's serenade.

Emmett needed the distraction because he was so completely upturned by the truth that Edward, and indeed the entire group, must have known all along.

In that moment he was a child who had been cruelly kicked. His face softened and he soaked up moonlight with embarrassment in his eyes.

"Does Rosalie know?" It was the first question he could formulate.

"No." Edward shook his head, remembering the close call when Jacob was on the street talking to Michael while the rest of them watched from the top floor of the tower. "Neither do my parents."

"What do you want from Him?" Emmett nervously picked up the knight piece; the head of the horse was just as big as a real one and twice as heavy. He had prayed every day of his life and was merely offering Edward some friendly advice. As a result, Emmett entered into a conversation he had hoped would never take place.

"I don't know yet," Edward stated honestly. "I need to find her voice first and then we will have to devise a message to send her."

Emmett put the horse piece back down, backwards. "You can hear Bella too?"

"I can hear everyone," Edward confessed. "All the time."

Emmett opened his mouth and then closed it. "Does anyone else talk to God?"

"Of course." Edward understood what Emmett was really asking, but Emmett clarified his point.

"Does God answer anyone else?"

"No, not in that way."

Emmett looked puzzled. "In what way?"

"Prayers are answered every day," Edward answered, "but no one else has a conversation where I can hear both sides."

"Edward?" This was the question Emmett was not sure he wanted answered. "Am I insane?"

"Michael is insane," Edward replied. "You are an angel, and you will be the one who winds up saving Bella's life. I know it. Can He hear me right now? Can He talk to me?"

Emmett waited, they both did.

Nothing.

"Maybe later," Emmett said softly.

"I lied right to your face, Emmett. I should have found a way to tell you that I knew about your gift."

"But you were worried," Emmett offered. "And you always had Bella to control me."

"Please don't look at it like that."

"Why not? It's the truth, and anyway, I don't blame you." Emmett looked away. "You must have thought that I was out of my dingy."

"We were scared for you, Emmett. Sometimes God is cruel."

"Well," Emmett looked around, as if there might be someone else with them in the garden. "I'm beginning to suspect that it's not God."

"Then who is it?" Edward was hopeful upon hearing Emmett's suspicion.

"I think it's the Devil."

* * *

The sun was orange and occupied the western sky as the massive ship, _The City of New York_, pulled up to one of the outside docks on Ellis Island. It was far too large to enter the part of the man made island.

The ship drew quite a crowd and the captain was immediately prevailed upon to sail around Manhattan before the sun set in order to show New York's citizens their namesake.

Many stayed aboard for the tour and the chance to wave at all the people reportedly gathered on the Brooklyn Bridge, but Jacob, Rosalie and Esme decided to disembark with the porter's assurance that their belongings would be gathered for them later that evening.

"I'll have plenty of time to hire a wagon for the rest of our things," Jacob stated as their sparsely attended ferry nestled into a dock on Manhattan's cheek. "They won't be back until after dark."

"Let's walk up to the theatre," Rosalie suggested. "We've been cooped up on that ship for a week and I want to stretch my legs."

Both Jacob and Esme looked shocked - even horrified. She could already imagine one of them saying that someone in her condition should not be walking. She had only suffered through one meal of their coddling and was already close to mutiny.

"How many times have we heard Papa telling preg…" She stopped herself, remembering the promise she made over lunch concerning appropriate words in public. "…women in my condition to walk as much as they could? He says it's evolution that the baby grows when we're upright, it's in all the medical journals." Rosalie had availed herself of a discarded copy of the _Boston Medical and Surgical Journal_ that very day and she knew they both saw her reading it.

"Fine by me." Jacob trusted that Rosalie knew what was good for her and rather liked the idea of taking a stroll.

"We will still get to the theatre before they can even leave to meet us." Esme smiled. "We can surprise them!"

Rosalie chuckled and shook her head. "My brother will hear us coming up Broadway."

They went up Sixth Avenue, past the Jefferson Market Courthouse and all the department stores along the Ladies Mile, which ran from 18th to 23rd Street.

Jacob bemusedly admired the ladies' restraint as they kept their feet moving and only allowed their eyes to stray on window displays. As it turned out, he also saw quite a few things any gentleman might enjoy. Regular cigar stores announced their presence with the tangy aroma of happy hobbyists loitering around their favorite tobacconist. There were also food venders nearby to quickly reclaim the air with their contribution to the evolving city steam.

They turned right when they reached Macy's department store and Herald Square, and they could all immediately see the theatre from two blocks away.

Rosalie smiled and her face was washed with sunlight as she walked in the great pale yellow streaks painted along the sidewalks of 34th Street. In that moment, Jacob fell even more in love with her.

Walking up the stone steps to the front doors of the theatre, Rosalie took in a deep breath through her nose. She had missed the smell of the always shaded stone. The round stained glass windows that sat in each of the four wooden doors to the lobby were brightly backlit by the sun treated room.

The thick grey windows sent the harmful heat rays back out into the sky but much of the light came through brilliantly. The copper flecks throughout the glass looked like champagne bubbles.

Edward was waiting for them in the second floor lounge and rose gravely to greet his mother, sister and friend.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Esme knew immediately that he was consumed by something.

"Michael took Bella."

Jacob cursed under his breath. He had just accompanied his future wife and her mother right back into harm's way and it was a big pill for him to swallow.

The news that Bella was in peril chilled his blood. "Where are they?"

"No one knows," Edward answered. "Several of his men have defected and are helping us but none of them were aware that Michael had any other place to go."

Rosalie moved close to her brother. "Have you gone out listening for her?"

"Yes, last night. I didn't hear her."

She frowned. "Would you even be able to pick her out from all the other voices?"

"I would know her voice even in a hurricane." Edward was solemn.

"And she has such a beautiful singing voice," Esme observed, mostly to herself.

Edward's eyes grew so big so fast that Jacob thought he might have been punched by an invisible fist.

"Emmett!" The excitement in Edward's voice drew out not only Emmett but several of the new group of vampires. Emmett was currently using them to help him fold playbills for the upcoming production of _The Tempest_.

Edward had wanted to cancel the whole affair in light of the circumstances, but Emmett had been crushed and reminded him that Bella would have wanted the show to go on. In an effort to restore good faith, Edward agreed to continue as long as Emmett agreed to ask God for help when the time came to send Bella a signal.

That time had come.

Emmett walked into the lobby from the auditorium. He knew the Paris trio had arrived but wanted to give Edward time to greet his family alone. Lawrence, Dillon and Sam were with him.

"Emmett, can you be ready to go out with me…" Edward craned his neck to see the still fading sunlight brush the roadway below. "…in an hour?"

"Of course," Emmett replied. "What's got you so worked up?"

"I'll tell you when we get out there."

Emmett understood that Edward meant to discuss something concerning God and Bella. "You can talk about it here. I've told them all and your family should know as well."

Edward was impressed with Emmett's bravery. He nodded but countered with etiquette. "Introductions first. Mother, Rosalie, Jacob you may have seen these three men with Michael before but now they are here to help us get Bella back and I trust them. This is Lawrence, Sam and Dillon."

When the Cullens were captives in Michael's house, they rarely saw anyone but Riley and two others. As a result, they had no frightening recollections of these men and they were grateful as they welcomed the newcomers with smiles and handshakes.

Esme, as always, wanted to hug anyone she could get her arms around but Dillon gently slid his hand between her and his companions and took a step back.

"Careful ma'am," he warned. "Alligators are alligators."

Jacob took a hold of her and smiled genuinely at the cautious vampire. "You present a very good point. She will be more careful."

"I trust them," Edward repeated. He had heard the thoughts of all the men, and he knew that no matter what, they all intended to see Bella returned safely to her theatre and no harm to any of her family. "Emmett, let's meet here in one hour and be prepared to stay out the whole night."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Have you had any luck getting God to talk to you yet?"

Emmett looked down. "No."

"Well, my mother has just discovered what it is we need for Him to tell Bella." Edward was very excited. If it worked, he would have her back in his arms that very night.

Esme waved the accolade away while Emmett opened his mouth in nervous surprise. "What do you want Him to say?"

"Sing to me." Edward looked out the window.

* * *

Bella was having bad dreams. They were incomplete, but she remembered an audience screaming, a double rainbow and a pack of wolves.

Jacob's fur was brown, and according to him, even reddish in the sunlight. She knew his shape though and the animal appeared to be him.

When she woke, the other vampires were returning from their night above ground. Michael let Bella drink a small amount of blood every morning at dawn. It would perk her up and keep her awake during the day, but by evening she would be weak again and sleepy.

He did not offer her any vampire blood, knowing that it would strengthen her too much. Bella would have positively refused his anyway.

Michael stayed with her during the daytime, content with reading a few books and discussing small matters with his loyal few. They made the tunnel quite livable despite the metal rails splitting the room. Everyone was jumping over both sets with a practiced grace by the second night.

Bella counted the links in her chain, there were ten. Each was the size and weight of a small cannon. She dragged them with her when she moved out into the chamber to look down both ends clearly. They grated the ground and the tortured sound swept up the curved walls.

She was given a book to read during the day but instead she focused on sending out a mental S.O.S., hoping that Edward would hear her. She did not know how far they were from the theatre but she was smart enough to see that Michael was purposefully altering her sleeping schedule.

"Good morning." Michael smelled like coffee, he had been out earlier. "I have your breakfast." He handed Bella a large porcelain picture stein filled with rich human blood.

Bella took the mug and drank quietly. She was trying very hard to remain in control, but everyone seemed like they were settling in for a very long stay. She was not going to be able to endure much more time shivering on the floor at night and licking every bit of human blood out of the stein and off her fingers during the day because Michael gave her only a fraction of what she needed.

"Is it your intention to punish me for our time together in the library?"

Michael had not expected the question. "I am not punishing you at all."

"You are starving me." Bella spoke calmly as she held out the empty cup. "It feels like you are paying me back for being starved yourself when you turned me."

Michael's face darkened like a roasted marshmallow. "I had no blood…NO blood. You are living like a QUEEN compared to what I went through!" He snatched back the stein and walked back to the far end of the tunnel where he had been sleeping.

Bella watched as her tube-mates got into small but comfortable looking beds. Within the hour they were all snoring and Michael was again standing above her.

"Do you think your friends from Paris have arrived by now?"

"How should I know?"

"I bet Jacob is none too pleased to find you gone."

"Go away, Michael."

He left but his voice bounced back to her. "I hope he finds you first."

* * *

The next several days passed slowly for Edward.

He took Emmett out with him the first two nights but went out alone after that, no longer wanting to waste his friend's time.

Jasper and Alice had arrived at the theatre shortly after the group from Paris and received Esme's wrath at their decision to leave Carlisle alone.

When they had a moment alone, Emmett took Jasper aside for a word. "Edward told me that you all know about the voice in my head."

"Don't you mean God?" Jasper had known Emmett longer as a human than as a vampire. He was well aware of his spirituality.

"That's what I thought, but I'm not so sure anymore." Emmett looked down. "I haven't been able to get Him to answer me since Edward asked for help. He is going to attempt to find Bella any time now and I don't know what to tell him."

Jasper nodded. "When the time comes, just try."

It was good advice and Emmett took it.

Esme was nervous that she had not heard from Carlisle, but Alice told her that he was at least four days from Charlotte or any other town big enough to place a call to New York.

Edward went out at midnight when the new moon was enjoyed by very few and walked towards the east. He had combed most of lower Manhattan and wanted to take a run on the water to clear his head before he returned to his search pattern.

Suddenly he heard her when he sped close to Brooklyn and almost stopped right over the water.

"Bella?" he whispered as he ran up the beach and stopped. It was her.

Edward stood with Manhattan to his back and Brooklyn looming before him. The massive bridge was a dozen blocks to his left and the bay breeze pushed his shirt against his back.

He listened to Bella.

She was herself listening to something. Edward encountered this phenomenon quite often. He would hear someone's thoughts when they were actively absorbed in someone else's words. Usually, he could hear the source of the interest and it was reinterpreted almost immediately by the minds in tow, creating a mental echo.

But he could not hear who Bella was listening to, and when she did talk she was involved in fragmented conversations and varying scenarios.

Bella was dreaming.

Edward checked his timepiece; it was 4:15am. He listened to his beloved wade in and out of paper worlds and walked until her voice filled his head. He was standing in downtown Brooklyn, a bustling and dense municipality and she was somewhere within its massive and vertical landscape.

Edward was standing on Boerum Street and looked up at the streetlight that stood over him as if it were a cobra about to strike. He had found her, but Edward needed Emmett's God voice to communicate with her so he could pinpoint her location, and she had to be awake.

He immediately suspected Michael was responsible for her altered sleep pattern and had to tear himself away to tell the rest of the group what he had discovered.

"She's in Brooklyn!" Edward burst into the top room of the theatre's tower where he found Jacob and Jasper. He ran into Emmett in the library and asked him to follow. It was Emmett who made the most perplexing observation.

"But that's where Riley went. Do you think he and Michael are in this together?"

Jasper appeared to deeply consider the possibility. Edward shook his head.

"No, Michael does not know where the book is." It was all the knowledge he needed to know that the men were truly at odds, just coincidently located near one another. "Can you three come with me right now back to Atlantic Street?"

Jacob stood up. "Lead the way."

An ocean of fog had crept into Brooklyn while Edward was briefly away and lapped at the lower edges of the quiet downtown buildings.

"I guess some part of New York does eventually go to sleep," Emmett whispered before pointing to one of dozens of similar looking compartment buildings. "Riley's gang is in that one."

Edward could hear Bella dreaming about him. He was yelling at her for getting herself captured and it broke his heart. "Emmett, I need you to ask God to wake Bella up."

Emmett nodded his head and closed his eyes. Edward heard the following:

_God, I need __You more than ever. All my life You have been there for me and now I have the chance to be there for another. I need You to give me Your strength, Your wisdom, and Your HELP. God, please talk to Bella, wake her up. Please God, wake her up._

They waited.

Nothing.

Emmett swallowed hard and considered rewording his prayer…

_**BELLA!**_

Both Edward and Emmett cried out in surprise, startling Jacob and Jasper.

_**BELLA,**__** WAKE UP!**_

Edward listened intently for Bella. She seemed not to have heard. She was still listening to dream Edward insult her and berate her for getting herself captured.

"Try again please," Edward encouraged.

Before Emmett could translate the request, he heard the voice boom in his head.

_**BELLA SWAN! WAKE UP NOW!**_

Edward listened…No change.

Emmett was relieved that it had worked, he tried mentally to engage the voice but it stayed on task, calling to Bella every half minute or so.

They tried for ten more minutes but it never woke her up.

Jacob looked at the sky above the telephone wires. "You can't stay much longer."

Jasper nodded his head. "We're cutting it close."

Edward sighed in frustration. "What we need is that carriage."

* * *

As soon as the sun dipped far enough below the hills over Carlisle's left shoulder to make the sky above him violet, Jeremy hopped from the back of the carriage and Nicholas told him to stop.

"You did well, both of you." Jeremy walked around to Carlisle's side. "That was a very pleasant ride." He walked in front of the horses, touching their down turned noses. "I had no idea such a thing was possible." He walked to Nicholas and spoke to the man dryly. "You will be here, with him, when I return."

"Yes, sir."

Jeremy walked off into the night and Carlisle was ordered off the coach. He liked his odds of overpowering the man and taking the gun but Nicholas made no mistakes foolish enough to allow that to happen. He kept his distance and never turned his back on his captive

Before they slept, he had Carlisle stick his hands through the large carriage wheel spokes. He then tied the doctor's wrists together.

Carlisle spent an uncomfortable night wondering how he would ever get away or convince the human to leave his master, or think of an excuse to get into his doctor's bag.

Emmett had told him not to shoot any vampires with the Blunderbuss pistol he had lent him, but Carlisle spent his first night thinking that he would have no other choice.

Jeremy returned before dawn and climbed into the carriage without saying a word to either of them. Nicholas presumably had his instructions. Carlisle was untied, fed some of his own jerky and told to ready the horses for travel.

When he approached the animals, he noticed that they had foraged a nice meal for themselves despite not being given much slack on their ropes. They were quiet throughout the night but restless as the sun exposed the uppermost birds in the round treetops.

Rebecca huffed in his face and he huffed back, hoping to communicate to her that he needed her to arrange for the other man to be thrown from the carriage thereby requiring medical attention and giving him a legitimate reason to access his medical bag and the gun within.

Carlisle did not actually expect her to get the message but she did know that something was wrong. Both horses did and he could tell that they were fearful of Jeremy.

Nicholas directed him eastward with the explanation that they would be taking a more scenic route to Boston. Carlisle did as he was asked and spoke only when spoken to, which was not often.

Days spilled over Carlisle's eyes. He knew that his family in New York was probably aware that something was wrong but had no way of knowing that he was nearing Virginia Beach instead of Greenboro.

The night they reached the coast, Jeremy sat down next to him in the sand and began talking.

"By the end of the Civil War, whole platoons of blues and grays were being turned into vampires. I was from Georgia, joined up in '63. I was twenty-eight years old and wanted to be a part of something big."

He shook his head and laughed. "Boy was I ever."

"When were you turned?" Carlisle decided to encourage the dialogue.

"About a year later. We were marching to the Battle of Mobile Bay. Our commanding officer stopped the whole line and let about a hundred of them ambush us."

Nicholas was building a fire on the beach and pretending not to listen.

"They dragged our bodies into a massive cave system nearby and a day later we woke up in the Immortal Army of America. We were no longer interested in North or South. We were only interested in blood."

"Who was in charge?" Carlisle asked.

"Older vampires," came the vague reply. "They were feuding with each other and didn't want to get too close to the action, so they started turning human armies to fight their battles for them. We were expendable. We were entertainment."

They sat in silence for a short while. The waves slinked onshore with a rustling sound then slipped back into the foamy collective. Carlisle did not prod Jeremy because he knew the burdened vampire was likely to complete the story he started on his own.

"Some of us on both sides were beginning to realize what was happening and began passing information back and forth on the battlefield."

Carlisle's mouth dropped open, which amused Jeremy.

"Whole armies eventually staged battles for our master's benefit, issuing superficial but impressive wounds while coordinating our rebellion." He looked at the still flabbergasted human and chuckled.

"It seems far-fetched doesn't it?" Jeremy asked.

"Actually," Carlisle had been forced to accept many far-fetched realities over the past year. "Not compared to the rest of the first part of the story."

Jeremy laughed loudly and Nicholas shot Carlisle a jealous look.

"We turned on our makers on April Fool's Day 1864. It was the day of the Five Forks Battle and we outnumbered our uppity masters a hundred to one. By the end of the night, there were just us newborns on the battlefield and we realized that we could wipe the whole countryside clean if we just eliminated the controlling elders of our kind."

Carlisle did not agree with the logic, but kept quiet.

"By '65 every early generation vampire was killed or sent to the bottom of the Mexican Gulf in a chained coffin. We had reclaimed the land, the caves, and most of all, stopped the fighting."

The fire had begun to crackle and Nicholas passed Carlisle some hard bread and more jerky. Jeremy sniffed it as it moved beneath his nose and scowled. "I better get some of my own dinner soon," he remarked.

Carlisle took a small bite of jerky and turned to Jeremy. "My friends were only defending themselves and you know that. You just said yourself you were a part of a movement to stop useless fighting, so why do you persist now?"

Jeremy stood up. "I've changed my mind about war," he spoke into the ocean air. "It is a necessity and if one is good at it then one should not deny his destiny."

With that he began walking south on the white beach, towards a group of people playing horseshoes. A man Carlisle did not recognize joined him on the beach and the two began speaking with their heads together. Jeremy had some last minute business to attend to before he headed up North.

Nicholas had the gun on Carlisle as soon as Jeremy left, but issued a command Carlisle was not expecting.

"Get up. You're sleeping in the carriage tonight."

* * *

Alice was crying. She had sat by the phone for days, waiting for Carlisle's belated phone call.

"We just left him," she mumbled to Edward after a vigil that lasted at least eight hours.

"He'll call." Edward tried to reassure her. "He just got unlucky with southern telephone connections."

"But you need the carriage so you can go looking for Bella."

"We'll have him put it on a train," Edward suggested with a smile, "or buy four more horses so he can race here at thirty miles an hour."

She grinned, he was being brave and she admired it. "How are your worry chickens?"

"Frantic," he answered honestly.

"How is Emmett?'

"Good. He is disappointed that Bella is not waking up, we all are, but I think he is just happy that the voice is cooperating."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"That…is a good question. And one I hope never to hear an answer to."

"Can you run down there and look for Carlisle?"

"Jasper asked that very same question when I passed him in the elevator."

"Well?"

"I'm going tonight actually. I can't do much good here until we get that carriage and my mother looks like she's getting sick with worry."

"I'll go check on her." Alice got up from the phone and Edward was pleased to achieve such quick results. He wanted Alice to occupy her own mind in other ways and she was doing just that.

He wished he was so lucky.

Edward left a full hour after sunset, knowing that with his speed, he might catch back up with the dangerous star as he ran southwest unless he gave the earth enough time to rotate away from it fully.

He spent the whole night traveling the roads around Atlanta with no luck. He was disappointed but not surprised, there were a thousand different roads to take and he could only choose one at a time.

If Bella were with him he could have flown.

The realization that his father might be in as much danger as his fiancé made Edward cold with dread.

He returned to the theatre to find his friends and family up in the top room of the tower, the Platform as Rosalie had called it. Jacob was tinkering on the square grand while they all waited for his arrival.

No one had seen him coming.

"What are you all doing up here?"

"Waiting for you?" Jasper said. "We figured that one of us would see you running back into the city."

"I came in from the east."

All but one looked puzzled.

"He went to visit Bella before coming home," Jacob informed the group. He knew what it was like to love her fiercely and he shared Edward's fear for her safety.

"What was she dreaming of?" Alice asked softly, desperate for any news about her dear friend.

"Trains."

* * *

Carlisle appreciated hearing about Jeremy's past and, for that matter, solving the mystery of what had happened to all of Jasper's friends, but he trusted the two men even less and felt that he had to take matters into his own hands to rid the world of their attentions.

He spent the night in the carriage and found his Blunderbuss in his doctor's bag right where he had left it. He debated on whether or not to conceal the weapon in his riding jacket and decided to leave it where it was.

He buried it under his stethoscope and other various instruments so that, at first glance, the bag would appear ordinary.

The horses breathed in his concern and grew quiet, waiting for the command that would allow them to solve all his problems. He looked up at the sun as it baked the last of the high clouds into oblivion.

The dust was restless and swirled all around, even in the fields. Carlisle felt change on the wind and knew that the day had come. He still did not know what to do so he quietly searched for signs that might point him in the right direction.

The horses began twitching their ears as if their names were being called and he knew that they felt it as well. The opportunity he had been waiting for was electrifying the air.

Nicholas was impassive; Carlisle glanced at him while admiring the countryside. He smiled at the man, who responded with a sniff, making his curled mustache twitch like the horses' ears.

Tension was woven between the muffled sound of the horses footfalls clopping on the hard packed road. Ahead, the road came to a rise and Carlisle allowed the animals to pick their own pace up the gentle slope.

As they reached the high spot Carlisle's eyes widened.

He barely contained his smile as he let the horses cross the train tracks and then brought them to a sharp stop. The whip's bench was perfectly lined up with one of the iron rails and Carlisle dropped the long tasseled rod that signaled the horses to move out of reach.

Carlisle turned to Nicholas, who had raised the gun to his chest and opened his mouth wide enough to invite an owl to roost.

"Get us off of these tracks right now!" Nicholas barked.

Inside the carriage, Jeremy began screaming and bouncing around like a trapped cat. Carlisle very calmly and very slowly reached into his jacket pocket and took out a small leather pouch that hung with weight from his fingers.

"This is over a hundred dollars," he revealed to the still staring Nicholas. "You may also take the horse in front of you. I free you of your enslavement, sir. Go. Ride to your future."

Carlisle had laid all his cards on the table and patiently waited for the man to respond.

Nicholas raised the gun to Carlisle's temple. "Get us moving again or you will die in ten seconds."

Carlisle did not move. He was going to make an attempt for the gun, of course, so he could keep the carriage parked on the tracks but he knew that he had time yet. He knew Nicholas was not ready to kill.

"Go ahead and shoot." Carlisle invited the violence as if he was offering a slice of salted pear. "I'm not afraid to die."

Nicholas smiled wickedly as he lowered the gun to Carlisle's stomach. "Then I'll gut shoot you and throw you in there with him. So he can turn you into one of them."

Carlisle leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Then you will have a vampire as an enemy."

The carriage was trembling with the agitation of its sole occupant as the two men assessed each other's poker faces.

In the distance a train whistle blew.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Welcome back! I'm excited to move forward with the final act of our tale.**

**Special thanks to Adamanta Banks and Ishouldnotbehere for their continued efforts as pre-readers. I also wish to thank my beta, RandomCran. She is my wife and my inspiration.**

**Please consider participating in the Fandom Fights Tsunami campaign to aid those affected by the terrible earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Japan. I am participating as an author and have contributed a one shot. Donations are being accepted through July 1st but the compilation delivery date has been slated for May 20.**

**I will also be participating as an author for the upcoming Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser. **

**For more information on these events, please visit the links posted on my author's page.**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Fifteen: Left of Center.**

**MOG**


	15. Chapter 15: Left Alone

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight**_

_**Morgan Locklear wrote a "SpongeBob Squarepants" episode (submitted, fingers crossed)**_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Left Alone**

Carlisle's head snapped up when he heard the whistle of the approaching train. He could see the plume of gray steam about two miles off, behind a hill. The locomotive was a moving volcano of destruction on two shiny rails. Nicholas was holding the gun to the side of Carlisle's stomach and repeated his threat.

"Get us moving again."

Carlisle held out the money once more. "Take it. Take a horse. Start a new life for yourself, Nicholas. You are a free man now."

The train rounded the corner and the rails shook with its presence. The vampire inside the carriage began to howl in terror as it continued to rock with the force of him literally bouncing off the walls.

Jeremy's life was measured in minutes, or mere seconds, if he chose to exit the coach and run.

Carlisle was running out of time to get the horses away from the doomed carriage and to safety. He put the small sack of money on the bench and jumped down, thinking that at least he would not see it coming if Nicholas shot him in the back.

The man watched Carlisle drop to the tracks then he picked up the heavy purse and looked at the approaching train.

The steam engine operator could see very little behind the spout of smoke unless he leaned way out his window. However, the oversized carriage sitting on the tracks ahead was easy to spot and the whistle was a constant shrieking reminder that the mass of metal had no hope of stopping in time.

In fact, if Edward had been there, he would have easily heard the engineer's thoughts.

_B__lessed Baby Jesus! I hope I'm going fast enough to get through that thing!_

Carlisle unhitched the horses quickly and led them away from the collision site. They followed their trusted master eagerly, and together they all watched the loud lumbering locomotive scream towards the ornate conveyance that they had pulled through the streets of Paris for almost a decade.

Nicholas took a deep breath and deliberately tossed the coin purse back to Carlisle, who could have caught it with his open mouth of shock.

"What are you doing?" the doctor yelled. "Get down from there."

Nicholas shook his head and peered down into the carriage through the window in the roof. Carlisle did not know what the man saw, but the carriage stopped shaking in response. Jeremy began threatening and then pleading with the man peering down at him.

"This is for Melody," Nicholas whispered.

He was still looking down when the train hit them.

The crash was as spectacular as it was loud. The engineer considered himself lucky when he saw that the wood had splintered before could duck inside.

Nicholas was thrown fifty feet up and landed on the ground with a sickening sound that told Carlisle he was mortally wounded.

Jeremy's screams escalated as the carriage exploded with the force of the impact. Pig blood that had still been stored in small barrels under the bench sprayed the doomed vampire bright red just before the sunlight set him ablaze.

He was chewed beneath the thunderous steel wheels before he could cook to death.

Carlisle saw several things spin through the air as the locomotive powered past him. Jasper's guitar was in pieces and fluttering to the ground like wounded leaves. The dress Alice had worn when Jasper sang her a song in a Kentucky tree was on fire, floating away in the bright and breezy afternoon.

The train did not stop, nor did Carlisle expect it to. When it passed and he could view the destruction on the other side of the tracks, he fully appreciated the finality of the situation.

The air smelled of burning flesh, coppery blood and coal smoke. The ground around him resembled a battlefield. Carlisle saw that he was alone and left the destructive scene before others could arrive.

He did not have a saddle for Rebecca so he rode her bareback while leading Jessica with a gentle hand. Carlisle mourned the loss of Jacob's beautiful carriage along with his doctor's bag but was relieved by that afternoon's turn of events. At the very least, he would not have to venture all the way to Boston.

Carlisle did have a long ride to Richmond but was comforted by the fact he would be able to telephone his family when he arrived there.

It was Esme who answered the phone.

* * *

"It's not your fault," Edward told Emmett as they sat in the auditorium watching the actors run through the last two scenes of the first act. "You called as loud as you could for Bella, I heard it myself. It's Michael, he's behind this…I know it."

"Thank you, but I did nothing. It was…Him. I no longer think He's the devil by the way and things are different…I can feel God but it's not coming from my head, it's coming from somewhere else…"

"Your heart?" Edward suggested.

Emmett looked at the stage as he contemplated his answer. He was still quite taken with the actress playing Miranda but had kept his distance. "No, my heart is…full."

"You have been thinking of Rosalie less," Edward admitted. "I must say that I am glad to see you move on."

They sat in silence and watched the actors complete the scene. Edward then congratulated everyone for being off book and excused the cast to the green room, where his mother had prepared pastries and citrus punch.

Edward and Emmett were left in the auditorium with only the hum of stage lights as company.

"Can we find a place in Brooklyn to stay during the day?" Emmett asked. "Bella is bound to wake up sometime and we can be there all day to speak to her."

Edward's eyebrows jumped up like grasshoppers. "Yes, but we would have to find a church or something near Atlantic Avenue."

"Well, we know that Riley is near there." Emmett mused. "What if we use this as an excuse to kill two birds with one stone?"

Edward was not sure that he understood what Emmett meant but he elaborated and Edward listened. "We could tell Riley that we have a way of finding out where Michael is hiding and that if he helps us, we will share our information. And then we could take the book."

Edward shook his head gently but insistently. "I don't want Riley knowing what we know."

"He's can't read minds, Edward. Send him on a wild goose chase."

Edward considered the plan. It wasn't great but it was the best thing any of them had come up with. They had already almost wasted a week and Edward was fighting his frustration.

"It won't work," he finally declared. "I'm not going to make any deals with Riley."

"Not even to get Bella back?"

Edward had never gotten a good mental reading on Riley and the unknown concerning Michael's former second in command was frightening to him. "Can we at least look for a spot in Brooklyn just for us before involving him?"

"That sounds like a good compromise. But can I ask you a question, Edward?"

"What is it?"

"Why are you avoiding Riley when Michael already told you that he was the key to getting Bella back?"

Edward regarded him with a pointed look. "He told me that the book was the key and he never said I would get her back. Michael said he would kill her otherwise."

"It sounds to me like you're making my argument for me here, pal."

"I'm not afraid to fight him," Edward said after a moment of pause. "But I don't want to make any deals."

"Can't you just speed in there and take it?"

"Riley knows I am capable of that." Edward had resisted the urge to flash through buildings in the area knowing that both Riley and Michael would likely have set traps designed to make him pay for his haste. "I think they are waiting for it."

"Then, what don't they know?" Emmett pushed. "What other surprises do we have up our sleeve?"

As they considered the question, the two vampires heard the phone ring. The residents of the theatre were expecting only one call, so Edward and Emmett ran out of the auditorium like cats on fire.

Esme was up in Alice's room. They had been working on costumes together and had just been using Jasper to model pantaloons. When the phone rang, they all looked at it through the open door.

"Oh my God," Esme whispered and began moving quickly toward the loud bells.

"Thank God is more like it." Jasper said as he followed her.

"Hello?" Her salutation was as desperate as it was quiet.

"Esme?" Carlisle sounded surprised and relieved.

"Carlisle! Where are you? What happened? Are you alright? Why haven't you called? Oh thank God…"

Carlisle's laugh from the other end of the telephone line was thick with emotion. "I'm in Richmond, Virginia and I'm fine. I ran into a… person named Jeremy. Jasper knows who he is, but he's no longer of any concern."

"Jeremy?" Jasper suddenly realized how dangerous had been to leave Carlisle all alone. He had once been concerned about the colossal loose end in Kentucky, but somehow he let t his assessment of that danger fade as things in New York deteriorated. "Are you sure things are under control?"

"Positive," Carlisle responded. "But the carriage was destroyed."

Everyone gasped and then one by one put their hands to their mouths while Carlisle quickly explained how he was taken and how he had escaped. As the details unfolded, Esme looked like she was going to faint.

Edward was alone in the elevator. He knew that Emmett, who was still not willing to ride in the vertical contraption, would beat him to the phone by running up the tower steps. He had already heard that it was his father on the telephone and understood that he was unharmed so he took his time, knowing that his mother would require her interrogation first.

He was just rising into the room when Carlisle broke the news about the carriage. It was heartbreaking for Esme to see the look on her son's face as he emerged from the elevator. He had just heard that his best hope for finding Bella was pulverized by the train of fate.

"Just get home safe," Edward said as he stepped from the car. It was clear to everyone that he meant for Carlisle not to know that his actions were detrimental to the rescue plan.

"I will, son," Carlisle answered. "And I'm glad you are unharmed. Is there any word on Bella?"

"Nothing yet. Did you say you were in Richmond?" Edward had still been in the lobby when that part of the conversation took place, where there was always competition in his head from thousands of vocal strands floating in from the city's streets. At first, Carlisle had been hard to hear over the din.

"Yes, I am at the Millstone Hotel and I think I can get to you in another three days."

No one responded to his comment. "Hello?"

"Edward's not here anymore dear," Esme explained to Carlisle. "He ran out as soon as you said Millstone Hotel."

Jasper glanced at his pocket watch and noted the time.

"If he is coming here for me I can at least him offer a horse. I got both animals to safety, but I really do hope Jacob isn't going to be very upset."

"He will understand," Esme assured him. "You should just concern yourself with getting the rest of the way home safely."

Alice took Jasper's arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She always liked listening to a happy couple talk to one another and she thought that Carlisle and Esme were perfectly adorable.

Alice had the pleasure of spending nearly a month on the road with Carlisle and had come to love him like her very own father. She knew that Jasper had long admired and emulated his fellow medical colleague and the guilt for leaving him alone took bites from his heart even bigger than the ones she felt.

"She's right, Carlisle," Alice agreed. "Jacob will see that you had no choice."

"Damn fine plan if you ask me," Jasper noted. "Jacob will probably congratulate you."

"Where is he?" Carlisle asked.

"Who dear?" Esme asked back. "Edward or Jacob?"

"Jacob," he responded. "But Edward should be along any minute, don't you think?"

"I thought he would be there by now," Jasper replied. "And Jacob took Rosalie shopping."

Alice mumbled something about the stupid sun keeping her from enjoying the same activity. Jasper kissed her head and smiled.

Edward walked into the lobby of the Millstone Hotel three and a half minutes after he had sprinted away from the theatre. He had a smirk on his face and his hair looked as if it had lost a fight with a chicken.

He embraced his father and then spoke into the phone. "I am going to ride home with him, Mother."

Esme smiled. "You are a good boy, Edward. But what about your play?"

"What about Bella?" Emmett asked more urgently.

Edward answered Emmett first. "Until we find a place we can stay during the day in Brooklyn I can't do anything for her. I need you to find that place by the time I get back. And as far as the show is concerned, you are in charge of that as well."

"Alright, Edward," Emmett agreed, but it was obvious that he was confused.

"Please tell Jacob where I've gone and when you tell him about his carriage, break it gently."

"We will," Alice promised.

"Are you sure this is the best use of your time, Edward?" Jasper did not wish to offend, but like Emmett he was confused and compelled to ask the question.

Edward's answer was terse. "I am going to see at least one couple reunite this week."

* * *

Bella angrily drank her meager amount of human blood every morning. All of Michael's men were drinking human blood as well. She could not understand why any of them would prefer to kill an innocent person when a perfectly good substitute was readily available to them.

She asked Michael why he chose to revert back to such a shameful act one evening and he stopped to answer her with a wide smile.

"Because pigs are harder to catch than humans."

"Oh, that's right," Bella responded. "You like your prey to come to you obediently, after you tell them to."

"That's right," Michael said proudly. "And you could do the same thing."

Bella fixed him with a stare and a scowl. "No, I could not."

Michael tilted his head slightly. "I do not blame you for your kind nature, Bella. I admire it."

He walked away after that. Bella recognized that it had become a habit. Michael never remained with her long once he acknowledged her at all.

Once a day, a tiny bright ball of sunlight appeared on the ground below the rungs of the ladder that ran up the stone wall to the street above. Bella knew that she was quite deep underground but that light always reminded that she had a chance for escape.

It illuminated around midday and lasted for about six minutes. Some of the vampires who were still up at that late hour would gather around it and playfully push each other towards the dusty but dangerous beam.

Michael usually disappeared after that. He was the only one not trapped down in the abandoned tunnel but he never made a show of coming or going. He floated up like smoke and would be gone for hours safe in the knowledge that Bella and her guards would still be there when he returned.

Though it was sorely tempting, Bella did not try to sway his men's allegiance in his absence. She understood she would not be able to capitalize on the advantage without a plan. Bella did, however, talk a few of them into sitting next to her so that she could drink discreetly from an upturned wrist while the others slept.

Bella knew that she could maintain that level of subterfuge but if she did any thing else she risked exposure. After several days, she felt strong enough at night to stay awake and call out to Edward. It was all she needed to feel comforted.

She became stronger as the week wore on and that helped a great deal but Bella was cold almost all the time. She found herself doing something she had not done in a long while.

She prayed.

Like Michael, deep in the tomb of an undiscovered Egyptian pyramid, she looked at the stone ceiling and called to God for guidance. She clasped her hands together and prayed for the souls of her captors. Once, Michael observed her in the act and considered telling her to stop but figured that it did no harm for Bella to pray all she wanted.

It had certainly never helped him.

Bella continued praying and calling out, but began to worry. She was certain that her friends were doing all they could but she found it difficult to stay positive around Michael.

He swept around the tunnel like a storybook prince holding onto the remaining shreds of a crumbling kingdom and he often took out his random frustrations on his subjects. She had seen him speaking with them individually, reinforcing his hypnotic hold.

Bella knew that his weakness was Michael's need to maintain solitary sessions with his flock where she had been able to regularly enchant an entire Paris theatre.

When the time was right, she would turn them all at once. But first, she needed a way out.

Her leg irons could hold an elephant and the heavy anchor chain was impossible for anything but a volcano to compromise. Bella consoled herself with the hope that as long as she could call out at night, she would eventually reach Edward.

She had faith that he was close by.

* * *

Edward had been feeling very isolated despite all the people in the theatre. He felt that some time alone with the man he admired most in the world was just what he needed to focus on the task at hand.

They traveled at night and Carlisle was quite happy for the better company.

"Catch me up, son," He encouraged when they were fastening two new and freshly oiled saddles on the mares. "Why did Michael take Bella? What is going on over there?"

"Bella was getting close to something in the book that could implicate Jacob's special abilities and she was worried that Michael would make the connection."

"Does he even know about Jacob?" Carlisle liked how the leather smelled, and Rebecca seemed pleased not to have his boney hindquarters atop her spine.

"He knows that Jacob is different, and that's enough," Edward's tone was heavy as he focused on his task. He was not a very accomplished rider and was only half way finished with his cinch strap when Carlisle came over to assist, having secured his own. "Riley came in and took the book while Bella was reading it and Michael took Bella as some sort of insurance."

Edward watched as the surgeon's hands effortlessly buckled the straps beneath the horse. "Michael says he wants me to get the book back from Riley or he'll kill Bella."

"Do you think he means it?"

"Not yet.' Edward pushed his lips together in thought. "But I don't think he really needs the book or her anymore, and that scares me.

"He is just keeping her away from Riley then?"

"Possibly. He keeps her weak, withholding blood is my guess. I can hear her dreaming from somewhere in Brooklyn, but Michael makes sure that she is asleep at night."

"Is he waiting for something?"

"That's my guess."

"What about Riley?"

Edward shook his head slowly. "As far as we know, he hasn't left his apartment building on Atlantic Avenue since he took the book."

"What do you think he is doing in there?" Carlisle had no theories himself.

"I think he's playing a piano, trying to catch up to where Michael was."

"Don't you think that makes him a danger to Jacob as well?"

"Not like Michael, and besides, he's waiting too."

"Waiting for what?"

"I don't know," Edward replied. "But if it turns out that they are waiting for the same thing…we're in trouble."

"You mean Jacob's in trouble."

"Trouble is trouble."

They rode to Washington D.C. in one night, not uncommon, but nighttime was short in August and Edward apologized for delaying what could have been a faster trip if not for his avoidance of the sun.

His father waved off the comment. Carlisle was very happy to have someone with him. His time with Jeremy had made him wish for a vampire bodyguard at all times.

Jacob answered the phone when they called the theatre at half past five o'clock in the morning. Carlisle immediately asked if he had heard any of the details concerning his carriage and Jacob confirmed that he had heard everything. But Jacob was in a very forgiving mood, knowing he had impregnated Carlisle's daughter. Since Carlisle was already somewhat distraught, Jacob chose to keep that information to himself for the time being.

"I am very sorry for what I did to your beautiful carriage, Jacob, and for all the hard work Rosalie put into it. I know it was priceless." Carlisle took a deep breath; he had wanted to say that for over twenty-four hours.

"The only thing on that carriage that was priceless was you, Carlisle," Jacob responded. "I heartily applaud your bravery in succeeding with such a clever escape, and for saving the horses."

In that moment, Edward knew that calling Jacob his brother would be one of the happiest days of his life. He had not yet heard the fluttering wings of the unborn baby in his sister's belly, but New York was a loud city and it was a very subtle body noise to hear even if one were listening for it.

"Thank you for your understanding anyway," Carlisle acknowledged. "And do convey my regret to Rosalie."

"Are you kidding?" Jacob laughed. "She's as happy as a clam! She wants a motorcar."

From the open door leading to Jacob's bedroom, Rosalie's sleepy but annoyed voice strolled in. "Motor_ wagon_."

Jacob chuckled. "Motor wagon, she says. She saw one on Easter and met a fellow named Karl Benz who said that he would sell her one of his production models. He only had about twenty left at the time."

"I feel a little better about it now," Carlisle admitted with a chuckle.

"You should," Jacob's smile came right through the phone. I was going to retire the horses and let Rosalie find a way to improve on the motor wagon. I am really more concerned with how we are going to find Bella without it."

Carlisle looked at Edward as they stood together at the Monument Hotel's only telephone. "Did you need that carriage son?"

And then he understood everything.

Carlisle had been in the Paris theatre the day Edward discovered his synesthesia and it was one of the topics the two of them discussed frequently.

"You did. You were going to use it to find her." Carlisle hung his head like a shamed dog.

"I'm sorry, Edward."

Edward shook his head. "Forget it. We're working on something else already."

Jacob nodded his head even though no one was there to see it. "Emmett found a small theatre in downtown Brooklyn that will let you rehearse there as soon as you return. He says you can get in before dawn and stay until midnight if you want."

"That's great news, Jacob. Tell him thanks."

"Will do."

"Is Jasper around?" Edward asked.

Jacob responded by pounding a fist on Jasper's door. He emerged wrapped at the waist in a towel. He and Alice were finishing up a romantic bath.

"Good morning gentlemen." He smiled. To Jacob's slight discomfort, Jasper's _good morning_ was pressing against the towel. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to assess the skills of Lawrence and the other vampires," Edward told him. "We need to know if they can they fight or not."

"I have taken that liberty already," Jasper informed him. "They're scholars Edward. Bred for thinking and worse yet; some are not emotionally ready to deal with what we are facing."

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked his fellow doctor. It sounded like Jasper may have made some mental diagnoses.

"Some of them still care for Michael. Others fear him. Either way we have our work cut out for us."

"Can you get them ready?"

"I can try."

"Start today, please."

Jasper answered with the same words Jacob had used moments before. "Will do."

"We're staying in the District of Columbia today," Carlisle said. "The Monument Hotel but we will call you from Philadelphia tomorrow morning an hour before sunrise."

"I'll tell Mother." Rosalie's voice was muffled against the pillow she was talking into so only Edward and Jacob heard what she said. "We'll get coffee too."

* * *

Jasper addressed the eight visiting vampires. Lawrence, Boston, Sam, Sean, August, Yan, Dillon and Walter were gathered in the lobby just when the streets outside were beginning to bustle.

"Edward thinks that it will come down to a fight." Jasper stood still with his back to the windows that faced Eighth Avenue and the rising sun. "I am asking you now to let me know if you are unwilling to do so for Bella's freedom."

No one spoke.

Jacob was listening from the uppermost promenade that circled the third floor and was very proud of the untrained men. He, Jasper and Emmett had settled on a three day crash course for the willing volunteers.

Emmett continued holding Tempest rehearsals since they rarely lasted more than two hours and it made for a good time to let the new recruits feed and rest. Otherwise, he was available to assist in the training of the cerebral solders.

He was standing next to Jacob amidst the chandeliers in the high ceilinged lobby.

"You will be tested today for hidden abilities," Jasper instructed. "I understand that you have all indulged in vampire blood for the past century?"

Then all nodded in affirmation.

"At your ages, with Michael as your maker and with vampire blood to boost you… I predict that several, if not all of you have gained new skills."

They looked around at each other excitedly.

"Michael is a very old and powerful vampire," Jasper wanted the recruits excited for the possibilities. It would motivate them to train diligently to see results if they believed that they could develop valuable skills. "He was centuries old when he turned you and you are now in turn centuries old. Bella can fly. Did you all know that? She could fly around this room if she were here…and so can one of you. You just don't know it yet."

"Do you really think so?" Yan approached, curious but skeptical.

Jasper answered with a question of his own. "When was the last time you tried to read someone's mind? Or tried to run as fast as a rifle bullet?"

Yan was silent.

"We are going to test your speed and your strength today," Jasper continued. "And if we have time we are going to conduct a few mental exercises. Are you all ready to begin?"

They were, and as Jasper had suspected, many of them immediately showed enhanced skills once they were pushed. Walter ran like light and Yan ran right up a wall. Sam turned out to be the one who could fly. Float was more like it, and he started panicking when he could not get himself down.

It the end, Jacob jumped up and pulled him down but he floated up again. Jasper told him to swim through the air like he was in water until he gained confidence and reminded him to have fun. Within an hour, he was zooming around like Bella had been observed to do.

Boston turned out to be an endless reservoir of physical strength and when they tested his mind they discovered, along with him, that he had another special gift.

Jacob took them into the library one by one as the rest raced around in the large lobby. He asked them to guess the color he was thinking of, and if they were right he would ask them to identify more and more difficult images or thoughts or even emotions he was thinking of.

When Boston was trying to guess Jacob's color he chose red. He was wrong but Jacob suddenly found that he was in fact thinking of red.

Blood, to be more precise. Inexplicably, Jacob was thinking that he would love some blood.

"Are you hungry, Boston?" Jacob asked him.

"I guess I am," Boston replied.

"What else are you feeling?"

Boston had a child's answer. "I'm happy."

Jacob closed his eyes. "Yes…I feel it…and you are excited about your new talents…you want to try something but you are waiting for tonight when you can do it outdoors…you're worried that you'll break a window and kill everyone in the lobby."

Boston looked like he had seen a ghost. His wide white eyes stood out against his dark skin. His mouth was a maw of surprise. "You just read my mind."

"Actually," Jacob clarified, "it was emotion I was feeling, and I think you were transferring your feelings to me."

"Really?"

"Try something for me," Jacob said, leaning forward on the desk. "I want you to try to make me feel an emotion that you are not feeling right now. Make one up."

Boston looked thoughtful, but then his eyes narrowed and Jacob was pummeled with feelings of anger. He was instantly enraged and could have torn himself apart from the intensity.

"Stop!"

The feeling abruptly dissipated, but it left Jacob shaking.

"I'm sorry," Boston spoke softly. "Try this."

Joyfulness then filled Jacob's heart to the point of breathlessness and his relieved smile was all Boston needed to know that he had succeeded in restoring his friend to his original condition.

"You have a powerful ability," Jacob told him.

"I know, but how can I use it?"

"Let's talk with Jasper about it," Jacob concluded. "He is the strategist."

Boston and Jacob entered the lobby to find Alice and Emmett standing in one corner with August, a Dutch vampire. They were throwing handfuls of coins into the air and not one of them ever hit the floor.

It was not simply a matter of speed that made the trick so astounding. August would sweep his hands back and forth, snapping one coin after another into neat little stacks that he would pocket to make room for more.

"He could make quite a nice living off of this." Alice joked as she threw a generous wad of metal into the air.

Emmett laughed and addressed August. "Do you know how you are doing it?"

"I see the path my hand should take that will give me the most coins in a single pass," August responded.

Jasper and the other six vampires had been arm wrestling but keeping an eye on the astonishing proceedings of what they had already dubbed as the human wishing well.

By evening, they had discovered that Sean could move objects with his mind and Lawrence could see the magnetic fields surrounding people and streaking through the sky. It hurt Lawrence's head to do so, but Jasper told him that one day it would be just another color in the rainbow for him.

The group was excused just after sunset with the caution not to mistakenly use any of their newly discovered talents in the bright city lights for anyone to see.

Boston stayed behind to discuss his potential with Jasper. Jacob, Alice and Emmett were present as well and they went up to the garden to talk.

"I think your talent could be used for profound advantage," Jasper told Boston after being given a demonstration. "And I think I have just the plan."

* * *

Carlisle and Edward had a very pleasant ride from Washington DC to Philadelphia. The weather was both clear and warm and the well used road was much smoother than previous legs of the trip.

Edward told his father about the idea to use Emmett as the middle man to set up two way communication with Bella, possibly to guide them to her location.

"What if she can't tell you anything useful?" Carlisle asked.

"That's where the singing comes in." Edward replied, recalling the blue waves of sound that surrounded her onstage. "As long as I can get her to do it at night."

Carlisle still felt guilty about the destruction of Jacob's carriage. It would have been the only means for Edward to search for her during the day. "Right, at night."

"Don't worry, we'll find her. I have a feeling that things are progressing just as they should."

"How are you able to remain so calm?" Carlisle asked.

"It's quieter out here," Edward replied. "A man can think."

"A man can worry."

Edward smiled. "That too."

They reached the City of Brotherly Love at four in the morning and the streets were as empty as an Irish whiskey bottle. The streetlights pushed the horses' shadows onto the buildings along the cramped streets. They looked liked tangled spider legs.

They could not find a single place downtown that would open to their knocks and saw no hotels beyond the one Carlisle, Jasper and Alice had stayed in a month earlier. Unfortunately, it was completely occupied and they needed to find safe lodging for Edward before making their telephone call.

"Let me take a look around," Edward finally suggested in a moment of inspiration. He hopped off Jessica and created a little dust cloud in the street when he sped off.

He was gone long enough to run back to New York, which was not long, but Carlisle had time enough to listen to the air stir between the buildings and cheer for a lone impatient bird calling out the stubborn sun.

"I've found us a place." Edward arrived silently and his words might have scared Carlisle but he saw both sets of horse ears flutter a moment before his son's appearance.

"Can we walk it?" Carlisle asked on behalf of his aching backside.

"Sure, it's only four blocks north of us."

Carlisle sighed in relief and hopped off an equally grateful Rebecca.

Within minutes, they were shown to a suite that had its own private telephone and the two men felt like they had just witnessed the definition of communication convenience. They felt like Kings.

They relaxed into two upholstered armchairs and Carlisle produced two hand rolled cigars that looked like they had spent a month in his pocket.

"Don't tell your mother," he said as he lit his. He held the other out to Edward, who waved it off.

"No, thank you." Edward smiled as he gave the local operator the New York exchange.

When Alice answered on the second ring, she could already smell the coffee Esme had brought up from the green room. "Good morning boys. Will we be seeing you by this time tomorrow?"

"Good morning, Alice," Carlisle greeted her. "Yes, I think we will be having breakfast together tomorrow if all goes well."

Esme and Rosalie were already on their second cup and had been chattering away about a big wedding for Bella and a small wedding for her and Jacob. They were perched in front of the windows in Edward and Bella's room, watching the sleepy Eighth Avenue come to life from five stories up.

They quickly moved to the bistro chairs that flanked a potted plant along one wall so they could hear the other side of the phone conversation and interject where necessary or desired.

They both felt quite saucy and bossy that morning.

"What would you like to eat dear?" Esme asked from her lofty seat.

Carlisle stammered.

"For breakfast," Esme added. "I can be ready for anything."

"Whatever you're cooking my dove," Carlisle answered and they could all hear his smile.

"I'll have your favorite all warmed up," she promised.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You two are making me lose my appetite."

"It's worse on this end," Edward informed his sister. "The doctor is lovesick."

"We'll be with you by this time tomorrow," Carlisle reiterated.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked.

"Yes dear?"

"You better not smell like that nasty cigar when I see you tomorrow."

"Yes dear."

They could all hear Edward chuckling at his father.

* * *

Bella was beginning to suspect she was no longer in New York. She knew that Edward's mental abilities had a long reach and therefore should have been able to comb the city twice over since she started staying awake for half the night.

She was careful to act lethargic so as not to tip off Michael that she was supplementing her diet with vampire blood. The growing heartache and hopelessness she felt was a great wealth of material to draw from. Her sadness was her inspiration.

Bella kept pleading with Edward to hear her and each night she felt more and more alone. When she did finally fall asleep, she dreamt of a red rusty train sweeping through the tunnel and taking all the vampires with it.

Except for her. She was left behind to the point of madness and then starvation.

Michael continued to offer her books and he had a thing for Almanacs that Bella found humorous. It seemed contrary to his personality but she wondered if he had been a farmer long ago. He had not really told her anything of his past except that he was from Sicily.

Since he did not speak to her often, she found it curious that he made a point of telling her when it had been a week. The sun had been up for a while that day and Michael was getting ready to go out. He saw to it that she drank a measly six gulps of blood and gave Bella the news after she touched the corner of her mouth with a white finger.

"Is that important?" Bella asked him.

"Important to you," he responded flatly.

"Have you no love for me at all, Father Michael?"

Michael was a still man by nature but even Bella saw that her words cemented his body. He moved his mouth first, a grin. "I know what you are trying to do," he whispered.

"And I know what you're doing." She spoke her words like a detective and he did not like that any number of his men could be awake and listening to the insolence.

"You!" He walked over to her and leaned down. "Have NO IDEA what I am DOING!" Michael looked around, aware that he had just roused the room himself.

"So tell me then," Bella was getting to him, she liked that. "What are you doing?"

Michael smiled. He looked around and then walked over to one of the stirring vampires. He reached into the man's open bag and produced a small shiny object.

The bright ball of sunlight had appeared on the ground next to the metal rungs and Michael strode toward it with purpose. He shoved his hand into the light and angled the square mirror in his hand to deflect the deadly beam right at Bella.

She moved fast, but not faster than light and the diluted sunshine splashed across her chest, making her shriek in pain and run to her chain's length.

"I am doing whatever I want to!" Michael cackled. "And you are alive because I love you!" Michael threw the mirror down before he turned into a mist that swam around the beam of light that he had just shot at his captive.

Bella held her hand to her singed blouse and gritted against the pain in her stinging skin. Michael muttered his way up the shaft leading to the street above and he began to entertain paying the theatre another visit. Surely the humans from Paris had arrived.

Surely Jacob had arrived.

Bella examined herself and discovered no permanent damage, but she was tender and felt sick. She heard Michael's rambles as he floated away and wondered if Edward had considered listening for Michael instead of her.

The chain tethering her to the wall was impossibly thick, but the shackle around her delicate ankle was much thinner. It might be compromised but her leg would pay a dear price.

Her lack of fresh blood was taking its toll despite her countermove to feed on her roommates. Bella felt like her chance at escaping was dwindling. She wondered if Michael ever suspected how easily Riley was able to obtain the book and was constantly looking for anything to interpret since his outburst.

He gave her no indication that he considered her a part of his opposition.

She was simply a prisoner of war.

Sometimes at night, Bella was left all alone except for Michael and his eyes would burn the back of her neck from across the dark expanse. He hummed to himself frequently at those times and Bella heard only madness in the music.

Bella considered the fact that she had spent a week down there before she realized that she was in real trouble.

She began thinking about crushing her ankle to escape, but before she made that decision she considered something that Michael had said to her upon his first visit to her theatre.

He had told Bella that her ability to fly used the same principals as his smoky demeanor. He even told her that he could have had her walking through walls by the end of the night.

Bella began to wonder if escape was simply a matter of her understanding how to manipulate the molecules in and around her body. As time progressed with no communication from Edward, Bella felt more and more that she was going to have to be her own savior.

She began to hover above the ground.

* * *

Edward and Carlisle were anxious to get home and were on horseback mere moments after the sky above Philadelphia was plum enough.

They discussed future plans that led into the Twentieth century and how they would be a part of New York's biggest moments.

"Have you considered living like we do?" Edward asked his father. "You and mother? Staying here?"

"Son…" Carlisle did not know how to say what he was feeling, and was not sure Edward needed to hear it. The truth was, he felt like his boy had been cursed to a life of perpetual struggle and death while the rest of his family would move on to the next adventure. "…it's not for me."

Edward heard every thought that flooded into Carlisle's mind. The despair at seeing his walking dead son exist only in shadows; the mourning of the angel that would never make it to heaven; the never ending flow of blood down his never-aging throat, it was sobering.

"Maybe you're right," Edward said at last. "But life is what you make it and my life is going to count for something."

"It already has," Carlisle was earnest.

"Well then, you haven't seen anything yet." Edward smiled. For the first time in over a week he felt like he was doing something right.

They took a ferry from New Jersey to Manhattan at half past five the next morning and already the sea to the east glowed with green anticipation.

"You can run on ahead if you need to son," Carlisle told Edward as they stepped ashore, leading two horses that were grateful to be back on solid land.

Edward squinted straight up at the sky. "There's still time."

"She'll be alright," Carlisle said, mounting his horse. "I have been Michael's captive and although he was a scoundrel, he made it clear that we were to be kept in health and a modicum of comfort."

"That's not what you said at the time."

"Most of my anger was directed at Riley. He was in charge of us."

"Well, we have five days to find her or get the book or find out if Michael is bluffing." Edward listened to the sound of milk bottles rattle in wire baskets as they made their way down 33rd Street.

Carlisle did not comment. He listened to a creaky wagon in front of them as it listed to the curb and regarded a few crows who were, likewise, regarding them.

The theatre was close to the ferry site and it only took them a few more moments to reach the stable entrance of the building.

Their family was waiting for them.

Esme ran toward Carlisle stumbling as she approached, and Carlisle dismounted while the horse was still walking, so the couple was literally flung into one another's arms.

"I've missed you." Carlisle spoke into her hair as he squeezed her tightly. He could not believe that his arms were actually around his life's passion and she was even more beautiful than his most vivid fantasies.

"I was so worried about you." All of the emotion that Esme was holding at bay came rushing out at the relief of finally holding her husband again. She began to weep tears of joy.

Seeing her mother cry always made Rosalie susceptible to the act. She looked over at Jacob in an attempt to steady herself and saw the fat silent tears strolling down his brown cheeks.

"You big baby," she whispered.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**As you know, I endeavor to post a chapter every Saturday. However, the demands of my real life job have drastically reduced my writing time. I cannot let the story suffer for the sake of a deadline so I must warn you that I may be forced to skip an occasional week.**

**I would prefer not to do this of course, but I have to consider the finished product. Thank you for your understanding and continued support, it means the world to Jennifer and I.**

**Hopefully I'll see you next for week for Chapter Sixteen: Right as Rain.**

**MOG**


	16. Chapter 16: Right As Rain

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight listening to, among order bands, Muse.**

**Morgan Locklear found several bands this week - Paper Rival, Deas Vail, Look Mexico and Carbon Leaf. I listened to them all while writing this chapter. It was sweet.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Right As Rain**

Moonlight snuck through strategically placed clouds that readied themselves for a liquid attack on the city below.

As Riley watched the slick metropolis from his open window, he thought back to the first time he saw the Brooklyn intersection he sat vigil over.

He had followed Michael to the same spot a year before and witnessed the old vampire descend into a manhole on Atlantic Avenue. Later, when Riley returned alone to investigate, he found a forgotten subway tunnel but nothing more.

He had decided to keep an eye on the area nevertheless, and since Riley had already been making land transactions in Brooklyn, he took a special interest in a spacious, empty lot on Court Street.

After purchasing the plot, Riley had a fifty unit building constructed and chose a section of the fourth floor to serve as his personal apartments. Riley kept the building in reserve, waiting for the time when he would need it.

When Michael pushed him aside for Bella, Riley knew that the time had come. Prior to that incident, he had assumed that Michael was keeping his estate as a back up and would eventually leave the group. Riley had planned to take the book from him then.

He never expected Bella to come along and render him obsolete.

Riley knew then that he would have to make the first move.

Fortunately for him, Riley was still there when Bella had assigned letters to the musical notes coming from the monkey paw wrapped sleigh bells. He heard the first verse she read before Michael summarily excused him. All Riley had to do was use that verse as a key and it would allow him to decipher the rest of the book. All he lacked was a piano.

Much to Riley's surprise, the piano proved to be harder to obtain than the book. He had been forced to wait for several days before he could even begin working with the instrument and Riley had to pay handsomely for the unusual evening delivery up to the fourth floor.

The instrument was an upright Steinway - light brown in color and it began its life woefully underused in that Brooklyn suite.

Riley spent days catching up to the verse Bella had been reading to Michael when he took the book from her. He also observed that Emmett had followed him to the Brooklyn building and had his men ready to capture or kill Edward when he inevitably sped through looking for the book. But Edward never attempted to raid their flytrap.

Riley did not completely understand what the book meant about a 'man of earth' or how the man's blood could change things for his kind, but he suspected that Michael did. Riley chuckled as he continued to watch the manhole in the street. He had recently made his decision concerning Michael and everyone else down in that hole.

As the rain finally filled the Brooklyn gutters with murky fast flowing water, Riley closed the window and returned to his book. His work ethic served him well as he swam through the pages. He was used to spending hours upon hours making very little progress and, by comparison, his newfound verses were a treasure trove of words.

He had been writing everything down in a separate journal he had kept for centuries and reread the portion of the poem that outlined the capture, torture and release of a man who was neither Moon skin nor Sun skin. The book implied that the man's blood would have unlocked secrets. Riley was waiting for more information - he knew the story was not over yet.

It took him only a few days to triumphantly add several more pages to his journal, pages Riley knew Michael would never see.

**_The world moved on and all but__ forgot_**

**_The race that split and the war they fought_**

_The ones who lived by blood were few_

_And over time they all withdrew_

**_The ones __that lived by sun were many_**

**_And had very few complaints if any_**

_The new human__ race made remarkable strides_

_And even the Earth Man had to chose sides_

**_But he would find a lonely existence_**

**_And even his dreams were __kept at a distance_**

_He questioned and cursed his very soul_

_While__ death became an unpaid toll_

**_He lived so long that his language died_**

**_But he liked the other ones__ he tried_**

Riley's men stayed with him not out of loyalty, but out of greed. He had snuck most of Michael's wealth out of his house before he came for the book and offered them the best chance for a continued aristocratic lifestyle.

He ended up with good men, fierce men who had remained independent of Michael and valued their freedom. They lived in the entire fourth floor with humans sleeping above and below them.

The men, women and children who lived in the building were off limits, sacred cows.

Riley reflected that it was a nice safe place for them to be. Safer than where Michael was several hundred feet below him. Riley informed his men that evening of his intention to drop enough dynamite down the manhole to collapse the street above.

He briefly considered the impending loss of Bella but Riley still held a grudge against Edward for grabbing him by the throat and manhandling him up the theatre steps on his first night in the city.

Riley decided the young vampire would have to live forever without his sire and lover.

* * *

The stables in the Theatre of the Heart were pleasantly warm despite the tall arched stone opening that led out to 34th Street. The bare Edison light bulbs that lit the room were nestled into the exposed redwood beams along the ceiling.

It seemed much bigger without the carriage in it.

Carlisle's embrace of Esme seemed to last an entire week - two actually; and their friends, although warmed by the loving exchange, looked away and struck up side conversations.

Jacob greeted his horses and removed their saddles. He had fresh hay and water waiting and smiled broadly as he told them that their days of pulling heavy carriages were over.

Carlisle hugged his daughter and then his friends one by one while Jasper briefly explained to Edward that the new group of volunteer vampires were eager and skilled, but very…very, very…..oh so very…raw.

"That sounds dangerous." Rosalie was no military strategist but she knew the importance of proper training.

"It is," Jasper confirmed, "and not just for them."

Minutes later, the humans (Jacob included) ended up in the green room, eating potatoes and eggs with generous amounts of cheddar cheese while Edward, Jasper, Alice and Emmett waited to greet the incoming guests who used the stable entrance most frequently.

Michael's former servants had been enjoying their new powers and had been occupying themselves in the farmlands of the Bronx. Esme had already scolded them for tracking mud into the theatre's lobby so they switched to the stable entrance, where they could use the water faucet to hose off their shoes.

Lawrence, Dillon and the rest of the group began trickling in not long after the horses drank their fill of water and gobbled up every last oat that Jacob had poured for them. The contented animals blinked at the incoming vampires and received a few treats from the men who arrived with pockets full of picked fruit for Esme's championed pies.

They gladly explained their new abilities to Edward, who became visibly excited as each new revelation was made. He was convinced that he was witnessing the genesis of the very army the others had gone searching for in vain.

Emmett agreed and felt that the time was finally right to make a move on Riley. He knew that Michael was nearby and figured that Riley might be the key to finding him.

"I say we go." Emmett spoke right in Edward's ear. "We go tonight."

Edward looked at Jasper, they all did. The stable had a light but stirring breeze circling about their knees as they waited for him to speak.

He finally shook his head apologetically. "I say we wait a little longer and we see what he is up to, and if it were up to me, we'd have at least another dozen troops or so before we ever tried to make a proper go."

Alice was with Emmett. She had been a weeping mess for days and simply wanted something to happen. "Alright, we need to go," she stated firmly. "We need to be out there."

Jasper only had to make his case for a moment longer and she was swayed the other way.

"Oh wait, I don't know. I am…" She looked down. "…so scared." Her worry for Bella was causing her to lose sleep during the day.

Edward was certain that Jasper's assessment of the situation was correct, but being back in the city only reminded him of how far away he really was from Bella and he cried out in frustration to the watching room. "I know she's out there. I know she's out there scared."

Their words echoed together in the rafters and were warmed by the electric yellow bulbs. They were almost musical enough for Edward to see them intertwined.

Esme came back down to take a head count for dinner and heard the anguish in her son's voice. She echoed his sentiment and wept at the tragic knowledge that Bella was alone and frightened at that very moment.

"We will find her, Edward," Jasper finally said. His confidence was real, but the delay was counterproductive to his cause.

"We're running out of time," Edward countered.

"Which is why you should see what our new friends can do," Alice told him.

It was a good segue.

The day was spent showing Edward more of the progress Jasper had made with the journeymen as well as the progress Emmett had made with the stage set of Prospero's house. Edward was dually impressed with both but could not bring himself to be enthusiastic about anything while his _anam chara_ was in peril.

Edward felt guilty, but he was glad he had gone to be with his father. Bella had been dreaming the most horrible dreams about Edward in which he was angry and abusive to her. It was torturous and he could do nothing to help her while she languished in her nightmares. He knew that he should want any connection with his love but he couldn't bear the sound of it, worse yet, he once caught a glimpse of his own angry face screaming at her and it was awful to see.

The young but effortlessly powerful vampire felt everything catching up with him. It was a physical weight on his shoulders. His hopes had been pinned on the return of that carriage and he had no other plan to replace it, except to follow Emmett to a rented theatre in Brooklyn.

Edward offered his parents the use of his room since he was planning to be out all day and night.

He and Emmett crossed the East River by walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. It was Edward's first time on the structure and he fell in love with the network of wires that criss-crossed the sky on either side of his path.

He felt like Moses walking through the parted Red Sea.

To be _on_ the Brooklyn Bridge was to be _in_ the Brooklyn Bridge. It was a cocoon of ribbed wire that made Edward long to spend hours in its care. New York had no idea what struggles one of her newest sons endured in the month of August 1892, but for one brief moment, Edward was a child peering up at a dreamt reality.

Edward had sped underneath it on the river, running so fast that what water he splashed on his trousers dried almost immediately. From that angle, it appeared to be only a steel band briefly interrupting the sky. It was not very attractive from that perspective, but the other side held a jungle of cabled geometry that made his eyes feel as though they were performing summersaults.

Emmett was with him and occasionally pulled on Edward's sleeve to adjust his friend's course as the wonderment kept his eyes skyward. Emmett admired it as well, but he had already crossed the bridge many times while fulfilling his duties with the production of _The Tempest._

It had been a meeting with a playbill printer in Brooklyn that led Emmett to the downtown theatre. There he found an owner who was between shows and happy to rent his space for what was described as an intense production meeting.

They were let in by a thin and sleepy man who shook Emmett's hand with familiarity and came away with a palm the color of a bank note. He wished them luck and promptly left from the same door.

Edward's plan was to try to keep Bella talking past sunset in order locate her before sleep claimed its prize.

Emmett and Edward settled into seats in the dusty and dark auditorium and Edward closed his eyes.

Bella was dreaming and he was relieved to learn he was not in it. Edward and Emmett made themselves comfortable with electric light and a few flasks of pig blood in the late night hour.

Edward listened in on Bella's latest struggle and discovered that she was dreaming about him after all. He was lost and she was looking for him. He had believed that there was nothing worse than hearing Bella's nightmare about him being cruel to her, but listening to her desperate pleading cries of his name stabbed into Edward like an icy blade.

"Have you gotten the voice to speak to you since..." Edward was looking for a distraction.

"No, but I no longer think he's the devil. The devil would have let us both down and he really came through. I hope he does it again today."

"He will," Edward said, reassuring Emmett and himself. "I just hope that I have something helpful to say."

The sun came up slowly and the waking minds that surrounded them told Edward it was bright and warm that morning. He had heard the last of Bella's anguished calls for him an hour before and had not any fragments from her consciousness since.

He nudged Emmett. "It's time."

Emmett closed his eyes, he looked worried.

Nothing.

"He'll come," Edward announced. "You said yourself that he could have let us down but he didn't."

Nothing.

Edward heard Emmett's desperate pleas. It was heartbreaking to listen to Emmett beg God to talk to Bella so he would be useful to his friends.

Nothing.

Emmett tried to hold in his emotion, but Edward could see that he was losing the battle and he himself did little to disguise the look of surprised outrage that they were not being given "divine" cooperation.

"I know you are doing everything you can, Emmett. I just think God is being stubborn, rude even." Edward took a gamble on agitating the mysterious mind into speaking.

"I'm sorry." Emmett was crushed but he kept trying.

Nothing.

* * *

Jacob escorted Rosalie up the wide avenues of New York and they dipped in and out of the rain, stopping at any shop that appealed to them from the soaked sidewalks.

They had decided to keep her pregnancy to themselves and Esme until Carlisle returned and the night he did, Rosalie recalled teasing Jacob for tearing up at the sight of her parents embracing.

He was very gentle when it was her turn to weep as she sat her father down in the tower's third floor library after Edward and Emmett left to attempt a conversation with Bella.

Carlisle had been expecting an official notification of their intent to marry. Lord knew he had to listen to his daughter talk about St. Patrick's Cathedral enough for a dozen weddings. The recent memory of riding the train with her and her mother made him smile.

Esme was the first to speak. She sat next to her husband and fixed him with a look that communicated to him how happy she was.

"Rosalie and Jacob have some good news to share with you."

Carlisle's smile faltered. There was a nervous tension radiating from Jacob that was strong enough to taste in the air. "Is everything alright?" Carlisle suddenly wondered if he was about to be told some horrible fate.

"Yes," Rosalie answered. "Everything is fine." She took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm going to have a baby." She was never one to shy away from a blunt statement.

"Oh…" Carlisle thought back to the night of the rocking carriage and decided maybe it wasn't such a great loss after all. He also thought that it was an inevitable byproduct of their activities and his small smile returned slowly.

"I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

Esme laughed and swatted her husband on the arm.

Carlisle turned to his daughter. "What symptoms are you experiencing?"

"I'm pregnant, Papa," Rosalie stated with a smile identical to her father's. "I'm sure of it."

"Well…" Carlisle clapped his hands together. "I thought I helped you create the most beautiful thing possible when we built this theatre together, but you and Jacob are going to produce something even more amazing. I'm sure of it."

He held out his hand and Jacob slowly reached for it, his nerves still evident.

"Congratulations." Carlisle pulled him into a hug that was quickly opened up to include both women.

They stood there together silently. Jacob listened to their five heartbeats and felt like he had a family again.

Esme sniffed loudly and the four of them broke apart with conversation that turned from breakfast to leap-frogging Bella and Edward's perpetually stalled wedding.

None of them were interested in anything elaborate for Rosalie and Jacob, and since they hardly knew anyone in town, they decided to marry at St. Patrick's Cathedral and hold a reception at the theatre.

Jacob couldn't get married fast enough. He did, however, insist that they immediately focus on Bella's safe return, so she could fulfill her role as Rosalie's maid of honor.

They were the only four people in the theatre who could go out into the sunshine so they did just that. With Carlisle and Esme arm-in-arm and in the lead, they strolled to the shore of the Hudson River and saw, much to Jacob's profound surprise, a community of squalor and desperate imitation of life.

He had gone back to France so quickly that Jacob had not yet seen much of the city seen beyond the avenues that lead to and from Central Park. The city had an infection of poverty that was an indiscriminate predator, unless one was rich.

Jacob was hyper aware of the children, babies and toddlers of all different creeds whose eyes reflected hunger but continued to smile and laugh like the young could always do.

Jacob had more money than he knew what to do with and immediately began a discussion with his companions about city projects that could bring conditions up to a standard worthy of developing human potential.

Rosalie and her parents listened to his impromptu philanthropy and pointed out that he had not even begun to spend the wealth that Bella had lavished upon him during his tenure in Paris.

He dreamt even bigger and Carlisle was astounded by his knowledge of city engineering. His concepts were sound and his costs were laughable when all the potential for prosperity was taken into consideration.

"You would make a fantastic addition to the city's management team, Jacob," Carlisle told him as they turned up 10th Street. "You could bankroll all your own initiatives."

They all smiled and fell into individual thoughts that ranged from whether or not the pears on a fruit cart had been washed to what Edward and Emmett were doing and if they had been able to contact Bella.

Rosalie had initially assumed that their baby must have been conceived during one of their many hurried embraces aboard the ship to Europe, but that morning she came to believe that it was more likely to have been that tender July morning they had spent in her old room.

She told Jacob in Union Square, where Broadway met Bowery Road, and for the rest of the day he would think about the fact that his child would forever have a connection with Paris. A sacred and celebrated act of love in the city of lovers had begun a journey he hoped would be a long and carefree one for them all.

The world was just beginning to speed up with aboard the ship and Jacob knew that anyone born around the turn of the new century would live to see wonders that only Jules Verne could imagine.

As they walked in the afternoon shade, he daydreamed about seeing the fireworks from the theatre garden with his wife and seven year old son or daughter as the year 1900 ushered in the century of possibilities.

* * *

Edward and Emmett sat in the dark but well appointed theatre for half the day before anything happened. Bella had woken up and Edward heard her conscious thoughts for the first time since she disappeared.

He was dismayed at how sharp and productive she was. He heard Bella reason her way through the chain by learning how to float through it. She had made what she considered progress and felt that it was her only way out.

Edward had also heard Bella ask her imagined Edward where he was and why he had not come for her yet.

"I appreciate you being tough with me earlier concerning Riley." Edward told Emmett. "You are very wise, Emmett, and I was wondering if I could ask you some equally difficult questions?"

"Go ahead." Emmett would have been surprised if there was a question that Edward could ask that he wouldn't answer, knowing that his friend could hear every thought. He truly had given up his fool's pursuit of the obviously unavailable Rosalie, but had not yet felt compelled to court the darling young actress portraying Miranda in the play.

"Do you think the voice in your head could be a mental illness?"

And there it was. Emmett had considered it, of course, and his response was almost rehearsed in its clarity and poetry. "I thought for years that insanity was the likely culprit." Emmett crossed his leg. "And I'll admit, I'm in no position to make the call, but if it was me in control I would have helped by now."

"Maybe not helping is part of the mental illness." Edward knew this was his best chance to press once and for all, to see if he could discover something new.

Emmett considered the question for a full minute. Edward heard him turn it over in his mind and give it weighty credence right up until he spoke.

"If it comes from me…wouldn't Bella be able to hear my thoughts as well as His?"

Edward frowned. It was a valid observation for which he had no response.

"Besides," Emmett spoke through gritted teeth, "if it were me I would have SPOKEN UP BY NOW!" Emmett sounded angry but Edward could hear that it was profound sadness that consumed him.

They sat in a sea of empty seats and listened to the building creak and the pipes leak. Impulsively, Edward reached over and took Emmett's hand. He held it and let Emmett squeeze his sorrow away.

"Emmett?"

He sniffled before answering. "Yes."

"Have you ever tried to imitate the voice?"

Emmett became still in thought. "I don't think I understand your question."

"Have you ever tried to speak in that voice?"

"Of course not."

"Because you think it would be sinful?"

"Because I think it would be silly." Emmett was not a performer.

"Would you try?"

Emmett looked up but said nothing.

Edward knew he was on to something, so he pressed. "I know it sounds crazy, Emmett, but I think you either have control over Him or you don't. And we need to find out which it is."

"I don't have control. We know that, He's not helping."

"Quit asking Him." Edward let go of Emmett's hand. "Become Him."

"Alright." Emmett still sounded confused but he was willing.

Edward listened as he made a healthy first attempt at approximating the booming voice that was a companion since childhood. He decided to repeat Bella's name, knowing that if it did work, Edward would hear her react.

_**Bella Swan**_

_**Bella Swan**_

_**Bella Swan**_

_**Bella Swan**_

Each pronunciation sounded a little different. Emmett gave it his best effort but none of his attempts came close to the tonality they both remembered.

Edward had feared this. He knew he had to go in and find the source of the voice himself.

Emmett also understood it was not working, he could feel that the resonance was not there.

"I'm sorry Edward, but I think this answers your question about control."

"I think you're right…and now I need to ask another favor…"

"Anything."

"I can become a presence in your mind. I can actually move around in the mental structure you create to keep all the information, emotion and memories that you have gathered during your life."

Emmett looked bewildered.

"We all have a system of mental organization," Edward continued. "A warehouse of boxes, a library filled with books, or any number of ways in which to visualize our storage facilities." Edward looked at Emmett's blank face and added the only other thing he could think of to say. "Jacob is the only person I know who is consciously aware of his."

"What about you?" Emmett asked. "Don't you have worry chickens or something?"

"Oh!" Edward smiled at the empty auditorium. "Alice told you that did she?"

"No," Emmett said quickly then paused. "Your mother did."

Edward's mouth fell open. "Well, I don't have the control that Jacob does over my…um…mindscape… but I have a barnyard with a few out buildings."

"Ah, that explains the chickens." Emmett shrugged his shoulders. "Well…if you think it will help, I'm in."

"Thank you." Edward sat back and closed his eyes.

"What do I do?" Emmett asked.

"Don't resist…let me in."

"Alright. Good luck. Will you still be able to talk to me?"

"Yes, now hush for a second please."

As Edward felt his mind being siphoned toward his friend, he remembered the first time he felt the sensation. He had been in the carriage and Jacob had been driving Bella and Edward home from San Sebastian. Jacob's mind had been a mountain with dozens of mine shafts dug into its dark rich soil.

New images swam before Edward's eyes and then, with the delicate sound of a soap bubble popping, he was standing in what looked like a hospital.

Emmett's mind was populated with busy and bustling doctors, nurses and even more patients. Edward walked down a hall with a rusty orange colored floor and wondered if he could talk to the people around him.

He was suddenly struck with the thought that if that were the case, then Edward was severely under developing his own mental facility and its inhabitants.

Chickens suddenly seemed extraordinarily simple compared to the men and women hurrying past him with such purpose.

"Hey! You!" Edward turned to the voice that was clearly directed towards him. Two large hulking men dressed in white were steaming his way.

Edward looked down and noticed something that he should have observed sooner.

He was wearing a patient's gown.

Edward ran but he spoke calmly to Emmett as he sprinted through an open door and into a blue stairwell. "Emmett, can you stop them?"

A very distant and milky voice answered. "Stop who?"

"Some men are chasing me." Edward explained as he took the stairs in twos. He noticed not without a little distress that he did not have his vampire speed and the two men were not far behind him.

"Stop, right now!" The request seemed so reasonable that for a moment Edward almost complied. His legs, however, knew better and he dashed all the way up.

"Emmett?" Edward still thought the experiment could be salvaged and spoke again with his real voice. "Can you help me at all?"

From his seat in the Brooklyn theatre, Emmett looked over at his entranced friend. Edward's eyes were still closed but his face was sternly set.

"I'm trying as hard as I can, Edward, but I don't know what's happening to you."

Emmett sat there, not knowing what to do except pray that his friend succeeded. But seconds turned to minutes and only silence spoke back.

The floor of the hallway Edward entered was yellow and the activity was subdued compared to the urgency of the floor below. Edward knew that it might be possible to hide if he found a place fast enough.

He opened the first door he saw, and the lone patient inside began screaming in a high pitched and devastatingly loud wail that alarmed everyone within earshot.

Emmett sit bolt upright and gasped in a thin and painful cry. "What did you do?" He felt an unspecified childhood shame reach out and squeeze him in an unforgiving fist. He knew that Edward had unsettled it somehow.

Emmett watched intently as Edward's body suddenly relaxed.

"They got me, Emmett."

Edward was being dragged down the yellow hallway by his arms. His bare heels occasionally squeaked on the polished floor and then he remembered that Bella was the one who had pulled him from Jacob's mind when the mental mine shaft flooded.

He listened for Bella's thoughts in the real world, thinking that even the tiniest fragment of her voice would be enough for him to follow and pull himself to safety.

As he was being thrown into a small square room with one other shocked but silent occupant, Edward decided right there and then that he needed a switch in his own mind that turned off everyone's voice except for hers.

Edward was tossed onto a bed and he turned towards the lime green wall. He was relieved to find that he could enter his own mental properties despite being trapped in someone else's.

He found the new switch next to the others he had used to control the flow of mental traffic and when he shoved the lever up his lover's voice filled his grateful ears.

Bella was thinking about Alice and he followed the silky words all the way into the real world, where a frightened but smiling Emmett blinked at him when he finally opened his eyes.

Edward told him about his experiences and Emmett sat entranced like a child at a circus. His eyes were wide with fascination and fright.

"I had no idea."

Edward nodded. "Like I said, most people aren't aware of their constructions. Are you quite certain that you were doing everything you could to stop them?"

"I kept telling myself to help you, Edward. What else could I do?"

Edward scratched his cheek, his hand completely covering his mouth. This setback was more than he could take, and the weight of the world would be a welcome relief if he could trade for it.

After a long while, wherein he almost allowed himself to become washed away in stinging tears of frustration and guilt, Edward made up his mind.

"Let me try again."

* * *

Michael had been sitting in the auditorium of the Theatre of the Heart for almost a full minute before anyone noticed him.

Yan and Walter were sitting on one of the bridges over the orchestra pit. Alice and Jasper were arranging flats on the stage, and Sam was sitting in the front row reading a book.

Yan stood slowly and within seconds all vampires in the room were on their feet and staring at the quiet old man in an aisle seat located near the door.

"What are you doing here?" Jasper demanded, taking charge of the group.

"What are you doing here?" Michael answered with the same question but his inquiry was directed at Yan, the Chinese vampire who had already turned red with rage.

"You killed Caleb!" Yan accused.

"And Sven," Sam added. His voice was sharp ice.

Michael should not have been surprised by the hostility, but he was offended all the same and opened his mouth in comical outrage. "I am appalled that you threw in your lot with these swine drinkers." He was still talking to Yan.

"The only swine I have ever fed from…is you." Yan jumped down from the stage and landed next to Sam. Walter stayed where he was. His gift was that of speed and therefore he did not need to ready his actions.

Michael was not frightened by the show of aggression. He knew far more than his puppets about survival and began to wonder if he would have to kill one of them to get back to the reason for his visit.

"I wish to speak to Edward." Michael proclaimed while folding his fingers together.

"He's not here." Alice's voice was soft but solid as it sailed across the room.

Michael raged. He stood up and howled like a coyote while pulling at his clothes. He looked like he was going to tear himself apart and as he settled his eyes back to Alice, the bearer of the bad news, Michael screamed at her.

"You lie!"

Her responding laugh was mocking him and she saw it immediately. "Don't you think he'd be in the room by now if he was?"

"But it's daytime!" Michael roared. "Why is he not home?"

"He had things to do," Jasper informed him. "And so do we. So unless you are here to reveal Bella's location, you can see yourself out."

Michael smiled thinly and composed himself with great effort before replying to the invitation to leave.

"I would like to speak to Jacob then."

They all laughed and Michael growled with fury. He shimmered in and out of their sight very quickly, an effect like that from the shutter of the film projector used to play grainy sea footage on a bed sheet that was draped down the side of a building on 40th Street every Friday night.

"Jacob is not here either," Jasper finally disclosed.

Michael began speaking to himself in Italian and pacing back and forth. He looked like he was sleepwalking half the time, but would whirl his head around and fix one of them with a menacing stare and a grunt of distain.

He said something about Bella being more trouble than she was worth and that Riley had gotten the better end of the deal. He also spit on the floor and pulled on his nose so hard that his eyes watered.

"What's wrong with him?" Alice asked quietly from her place right next to Jasper.

"What's wrong with you?" Michael shouted like a scorned child. "Why have you not come to rescue your friend?"

Jasper opened his mouth to speak, but Alice held her hand up. "Why have you endangered your friend, your creation?"

Michael pouted. "She is in no danger."

"Now YOU lie!" Alice barked. "You told Edward he had two weeks to get the book or else you would kill her."

Michael balled up his fists and struck himself in the sides of the head. "I just want the book back!" He grabbed his own head and shook it vigorously before disappearing into nothing.

"He's worse than I've ever seen him." Walter finally said.

"Do you think he meant what he said about Bella being in no danger?" Alice asked.

"I don't know," Walter answered.

"No," Yan concluded. "He doesn't mean it. He never does."

"What does he want with Jacob?" Jasper asked, although he was afraid that he already knew the answer.

"He is very dangerous right now." Yan told them. "Anyone who gets in his way will be killed first and mourned later, if at all. If he has fixated on Jacob then you better hope he can see through walls because Michael will stop at nothing to get him."

"He thinks that Jacob and Edward should have come for Bella by now." Alice surmised. "He got impatient and came to check up on them."

"I think you're right." Sam said. "He came here to give one of them a clue. He's tired of waiting. I've seen that look when he used to speak with Riley."

"At least we don't have to hide from him anymore." Walter added.

"Maybe not us," Jasper's tone was somber. "But we need to talk to Jacob as soon as he gets back."

* * *

"Let's go over this one last time," Emmett said. He and Edward had discussed ground rules for his second excursion into the mental hospital. "I am going to picture the facility you described, with the orange floor, the blue stairwell and the yellow floor above it."

"Yes," Edward confirmed. "If you can get in as well, you may even be able to assist me."

"I am going to picture all the doctors and nurses you told me about but none of the big guys."

"Yes," Edward replied again. "That is very important."

"And I am going to instruct every part of my mind to assist you in finding the man who has been speaking to me, even the big guys if they show up."

Edward nodded. "Are you ready?"

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?" Edward asked.

"We have to go over your precautions too."

Edward smiled. "I am not to lose track of Bella's voice."

"Is it still the only one you can hear?"

"Yes. I've kept it that way just in case."

"Alright. I will look for you when I get there." Emmett closed his eyes and began by focusing on the first thing Edward said he saw - the orange floor.

It was just as Edward had described and so was Edward, barefoot and in a hospital gown. They both were. Edward could not believe that he hadn't noticed the sharp coldness of the floor the first time.

"You made it!" Edward was proud and knew that their chances of success were tripled at least. "Who do you want to ask first?"

Emmett looked around, there were indeed a lot of busy doctors and nurses but the reason was evident. Every bed was occupied by a patient and they all looked pretty banged up. There was an attractive ginger haired nurse hurrying past them and Emmett called her by name.

"Marie, can you help me?'"

"I can help you pick out a good watermelon," she said brightly.

"Pardon me?" Emmett glanced at Edward, who shrugged his shoulders.

"The trick is getting one with a yellow belly, that way you know it hasn't been jostled during growth."

"I know that already." Emmett answered angrily. "Can you tell me anything else?"

Marie burned him with her fiery stare before she walked away. "What else is there," she mumbled to herself as she walked away.

Emmett stopped a doctor next. He was checking a chart at the end of a bed occupied by a sickly looking boy. Emmett was reminded of someone he knew.

"Excuse me Dr…" He realized that he knew this man's name as well. "…Carter?"

"Yes?"

"Could you help me locate someone?"

"Good heavens, no," the doctor spoke bluntly. "I can help you properly wrap a broken arm or leg. Is there a broken arm or leg that needs to be wrapped?"

"Um…no," Emmett admitted.

"Then why did you bring it up?" He too walked away, leaving Emmett stymied and unamused.

Edward silently followed as Emmett approached an older doctor who acted like he was late for something. "One moment of your time please, Dr. Ash?"

The man stopped immediately. "Of course."

"What is your function here?"

"I am the dietician. I control food likes and dislikes."

"So you have been around for a while then?"

"Since the beginning."

"How do I locate someone?"

"You need to go to your office I would imagine."

"Oh…Thank you." Emmett turned toward Edward. "Apparently, I have an office."

"Yes," Edward agreed. "And I think you have stored certain skills… and fruit picking advice, into each one these people. Let's try finding one who looks like an administrator. He should be able to take us to your office.

"Good idea." Emmett began walking down the hall, searching for someone wearing a suit. They walked to the stairwell and Emmett noticed that it went down. "Let's try this way."

"I think we should go up if we leave this level," Edward told him. "It makes sense that your office would be up there anyway."

"No." Emmett was positive that if they went lower Edward would be taken to where ne needed to go. Once he was on the inside, Emmett understood what had happened to Edward on his first attempt. "We'll find the help we need down here."

Edward trusted his friend and they both walked down to the lowest level. Emmett opened the door for Edward and it led to a hall with a red floor.

It was also filled with dozens of the big fellows, including the same ones who had dragged Edward upstairs the first time. Every one of them turned toward the sound of the opening door and Edward watched as two sets of eyes widened in recognition.

"Run!" Edward yelled and turned toward Emmett, who was pushing him into the room.

"It's alright, Edward," Emmett stated. "I figured it out."

"What are you doing?" Emmett's big frame blocked the entire doorway and the sound of footsteps approaching sounded like applause.

"Let them take you, Edward."

"What?" Edward was stunned. As hands grabbed him and turned him around, he saw that some of them took hold of Emmett as well.

He was dragged back up the stairs while Emmett was taken further down the red hallway.

"Just trust me, Edward," Emmett called. "They're taking you where you want to go."

Edward was taken back up to the hall with the yellow floor and thrown into the same room he had been tossed into before.

"Welcome back," the occupant greeted him.

Edward immediately recognized his booming voice.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I'm pleased to let you know that this chapter comes with a brand new song called "We Go Tonight". The fabulous Betti Gefecht and I collaborated once again and the link is posted on my author's page. It will take you to her website and I encourage you to listen to her other amazing songs. Thank you Betti from Jennifer and I both.**

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, Riley and Bella, I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. It is merely a reference tool.**

**The one shot I submitted for the Fandom Fights Tsunami campaign is a humorous piece called "Cockeyed Optimist: Episode Two, The Air Show." (Episode One was contributed to the Fandom Fights the Floods event). The outtakes are scheduled for delivery later this month. If you are interested in contributing, please see the link on my author's page for more information.**

**I will be contributing Episode Three of Cockeyed Optimist to the upcoming Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser in June. You can also find a link to that blog on my author's page.**

**Good news! I've had enough time to write the next chapter and I'm already working on Chapter Eighteen.**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Seventeen: One Man's Treasure**

**MOG**


	17. Chapter 17: One Man's Treasure

**_Disclaimer:_**

**_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight_**

**_Morgan Locklear owns all the A&E Horatio Hornblower DVDs._**

**_(B__ecause before she found Robert Pattinson, Jennifer had the hots for Ioan Gruffudd)_**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**One Man's Treasure**

There was a carbon existence beneath the streets of Brooklyn. Bella could make her body transparent and the feeling was like being immersed in a giant bottle of champagne. Her skin was tickled by thousands of bubbles, but she remained solid and could not get the chain off her ankle.

Michael was venomous. He lashed out at everyone and she wondered what had him so distraught. She hoped that if Edward was listening he was listening to Michael as well as her.

When Bella was nine years old, she and her two sisters had accompanied their parents to a nearby town for a fleece fair. They stayed with cousins and slept in the barn with a newborn calf and her recovering mother.

The miracle of life was awkward and boney, but Bella observed enough to convince her that life was far more fragile than she had ever understood. She was an intelligent and well cared for girl, but in 1531 death was in the streets. Bella wondered why it had taken a shaking calf to teach a mortal lesson that corpses could not.

The fleece fair itself was a dizzying celebration of tattooed fabric and exotic food. The Swan family hoped to sell small wooden sculptures that Charlie had carved during the evenings. As he worked, he would listen to his three daughters chirp like fuzzy chicks while they completed their chores.

Each girl had talents with animals as well as being natural gardeners. They took pride in their carrots, potatoes and radishes while reserving a child's loyal love to a tree in the corner of their property. It grew tiny and powerfully sour apples.

Charlie would laugh at their winces as they chewed over the day with their father in the firelight. The girls got along well and often sat obediently as Charlie provided explanations to their seemingly endless questions about the earth and sky.

Bella was often the one asking questions that her father could not answer. He had always known that she was ahead of her time and encouraged her to believe that God would answer all her questions one day.

The polished wooden treasures that Charlie carved were usually turtles but sometimes snakes and frogs. Charlie liked the designs on reptiles. He had a small sack of them, fourteen in all, and the income they generated was enough to purchase food for the family during the entire trip as well as new dresses for his wife and children and a dashing hat for him.

It had a goose feather band on it.

Bella remembered wearing it a few times on the walk back home. She chose a white dress and, when not wearing the hat, she looked like an angel skipping along the road. Bella had always looked beautiful in white, her dark hair trickling down in silky rivulets and her honey brown eyes looking like beach agates reflecting the sun.

Her sisters chose vibrant colors of yellow and pink but Bella, the youngest, stood out in her pure, clean gown. All the girls went barefoot; in fact Bella did not own a pair of shoes until she joined the Church and even then did not acquire her first pair until she was preparing to sing for the King and Queen.

Bella always remembered the feeling of that dress on her budding chest as well as the smell of her father when the hat inevitably slipped down her face, turning her world dark. She remembered the sound of her parents' light and loving conversation in her ears and the feel of the gritty road dusting her feet.

They ate so many new fruits and foods that she forgot the names of half of them by the time they returned home. After she became a vampire and moved through Europe, she rediscovered several tasted memories. Each was as juicy as a grapefruit, and occasionally just as sour.

Bella longed for those days when she had only her sisters and baby calf to worry about. Days when a wooden turtle bought your whole family a meal before innocent dirt toughened your feet.

She sat in her city cavern and pushed the memories away. They made her angry, and when Bella got angry she was almost as dangerous as Michael.

She was not going to wait much longer before she made her move.

Michael still went up and out most days and Bella always managed to find a willing supplier of vampire blood to keep her strength up. She even got one of the others, Phillip, to give her his human blood. When she drank it, she felt like she could tear the chain in half with her bare hands.

She always left the men with the powerful suggestion that they never spoke to her at all…and that Michael was corrupt.

They would sometimes question his actions and it only set his bad mood on fire. Bella liked shaking his cage. It was her only source of entertainment after Michael took her reading privileges away. It had been her punishment for complaining too often that his train tunnel was stuffy and pointing out that the tracks looked peculiar.

* * *

"It's you." Edward sat on the thin bed opposite his cell mate in Emmett's mind. In the real world, he could hear Emmett stir beside him and he never lost the sound of Bella's thoughts. Edward knew that she was not just his anchor, but his lifejacket as well.

She was awake; he could tell that easily by the sensible progression of her thoughts. She was happy to be strong physically, but her loneliness was a needling pain.

He listened to her as he watched the small balding man regard him with a bewildered gaze.

"Who do you think I am?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "God?"

The man froze. "Who… what… are you?"

"My name is Edward Cullen and…"

"Impossible…" the man whispered. He was stunned and not just a little frightened. He turned toward the solid wall between the beds and began touching it like he would find a magic button to release him.

"…I need you to talk to Bella again, please."

The man turned back to Edward. "I tried to help you but they caught me and threw me in here."

"Who?"

"The ones who brought you in, they know where I go now so I might as well not even bother."

"What if I can get you where you need to go?" Edward was almost pleading.

"Well, if you can get there, you can just talk to her yourself."

Edward's mouth popped open in fantastical enlightenment. "Are you saying that I can speak to her?"

"It stands to reason," the man said, crossing to look out the small window in the door. "I heard you tell Emmett that she could hear it when I spoke to him…"

"That's correct."

"Well then, you can go do it."

Edward knitted his eyebrows together just before his mouth popped shut. "How does it work? How do you talk to Emmett?"

"That's the easy part," the man responded. "We just need to find a doctor downstairs and borrow his stethoscope."

"How do you get it from him?"

"First, I borrow a doctor's jacket from the supply room and then I ask him nicely."

"Can you help me find him?"

The man was short, barely five feet tall. He might have passed for a child had he not been so aged and devoid of follicle influence. When he turned back to look out the window, Edward saw that he had to raise himself up on the balls of his feet.

His voice, however, was deep and unblemished by time. He turned to Edward and nodded his head. "If you can get us out of here, I can get us that stethoscope."

He turned back to the door and screamed at the sight of two bright blue eyes. He jumped back a second or two before the door opened outward and Emmett stepped in. He had two large members of the brute squad with him - the same two men that Edward last saw dragging him down the hallway with the red floor.

"Hi fellas," Emmett greeted brightly. He looked at the man standing next to his still seated friend. "So… you're God?"

The man's sudden look of terror was enough to make the hairs stand up on the back of Emmett's neck, even in the outside world where he sat motionless.

"No….no…." He turned and ran towards the cement cell wall and crashed into it as if it would give way like smoke. When it didn't, he pounded it with his fists and cried tears that sprang from his eyes with such force that they struck the wall between his savage and fruitless blows.

Emmett looked at Edward. He was shocked by the severe reaction and did not know how to proceed. He turned to his escorts, who began walking forward with purpose. They reached the man just as he began smashing his shiny skull into the unforgiving wall, but he had already left his mark in salt and blood.

The large men restrained him and held him up to Emmett, who spoke with a dry mouth. "I am not here to hurt you, sir. Please calm yourself."

"I got you turned into one of them," he spoke in his deep but trembling voice.

Understanding bloomed in Emmett's mind. The air actually sweetened in the hospital, Edward could smell it. The lights brightened as well.

"I don't care about any of that now." Emmett was sincere. "I just need you to help us talk…"

"…talk to Bella."

"I told him already," Edward interjected. "He is going to help us."

"Wonderful!" Emmett stood aside from the door to give the man a clear path to the hall. "Lead the way my good man."

He did not look at Emmett, and when he passed he hunched his shoulders as if he were going to be struck. When he got out into the hallway, he silently made his way to the stairwell.

Emmett was disturbed by the number of patients he saw and immediately determined that the area was understaffed.

Emmett turned to the bald man. "What is your name?"

"Chester."

"Where to, Chester?"

They followed the man around for a moment while he craned his neck. "We're looking for Doctor Freeman," he said. "Don't get him talking about astronomy."

"I love astronomy," Emmett observed.

"Dr. Freeman?" Edward called loudly. It was a sound tactic and a young blonde man approached them from the other end of the wide hall.

"Can I help you?"

"You can help me," Emmett explained. "I need you to give me your stethoscope."

The doctor took off the instrument as if it meant the world to him but handed it to Emmett, all the while looking suspiciously at Chester.

"Thank you, Doctor. I will find a way to properly convey my appreciation for this gesture." He gave the device to Edward, who held it like it was a piece of seaweed.

"What do I do?"

Chester led them into a quiet and mostly empty room. "You talk into it. It's the only one I've found that he…I mean you…" Chester blushed and turned to Emmett. "…can hear."

Edward placed the stethoscope around his neck so that the ear pieces were touching each other at his hairline. He spoke into the silver circle in his hand.

"Bella?" his voice was timid, but then he cleared his throat and tried again. "Bella can you hear me?"

"Edward?"

The sound of her hope-filled voice made his eyes prickle with possibilities.

* * *

When Jacob came back to the theatre, Jasper and Alice told him about Michael's spirited visit earlier in the day. They waited until he was alone in the stable, then dropped into the room though the shaft cut into their headboard.

Jasper had done it once before and gave Jacob a verbal warning before he went down. He then watched proudly as Alice followed suit with a nice landing and a broad smile.

"See how keeping your knees bent takes all the thinking out of it?" he asked her with a kiss.

"It was brilliant!" she exclaimed, while squeezing a beckoning section of his rear end. "I think this is my new favorite way to come downstairs."

They both turned to Jacob, who was tending the horses and humming a song he had heard on the street. He patiently waited for them to complete their frisky exchange before greeting them.

"Good afternoon, you two."

"Hello, Jacob," Jasper replied. "Got a minute?"

"Of course." He crossed the room and stood with them. "I have something to talk to you about as well."

"Michael came to the theatre today," Alice began. "He asked for Edward and then he asked for you."

Jacob nodded his head understanding. "Did he see any of our guests?"

"Yes," Jasper answered. "They had some harsh words for one another, but Michael did not stay long. He threw a tantrum and left soon after we told him you weren't here."

Jacob chewed on a few thoughts. "So, you weren't sure whether or not to tell the Cullens that he had paid us another visit? Is that why you waited until I was alone?"

"Yes," Alice told him. "We thought you should make that decision."

Jacob turned to tidy up before leaving. "I think they should know."

Jasper helped him tuck a few things away for the night while Alice cooed at each Friesian. They then went to the green room where Esme was already preparing a dinner of baby red potatoes topped with turkey gravy and celery stuffed with peppered cheese.

Jacob told the Cullens what had happened, and they were alarmed but not truly surprised to hear of Michael's appearance. Jacob was pleased that it did not take much coaxing to get Esme and Carlisle to agree to move back into their apartment in the Stuyvesant Building.

Rosalie was staying with Jacob. There was no convincing her otherwise, especially after she heard that he was asked for by name.

"What does he want with you?" she wondered.

"I was the one he made contact with that day he showed up on the street," Jacob guessed. "I wonder if he just asked for me because Edward wasn't around."

"That does make sense," Carlisle agreed from the table, knowing that he was an hour too early to eat.

"I don't like it," Rosalie responded.

"Well," Jacob said, sitting on one of the many arm chairs in the low ceilinged room. "Edward and Emmett should be returning soon and then we can see what new information they have."

Rosalie and Alice followed his lead, and soon, Jasper found a chair nearby to settle into while the aroma of roasted turkey drifted down to them.

Jacob looked at Rosalie and arched his eyebrow questioningly. She nodded slightly and smiled with her eyes.

"We have something to ask you two," Jacob leaned forward so he could see both Jasper and Alice.

They leaned forward as well, his invitation to continue speaking.

"Rosalie and I were hoping that you would be Godparents."

Alice gasped and turned to Rosalie. "Really? You mean…?"

"Yes, and we're due in April," she confirmed. "We want you two to be an important part of his life."

"His?" Jasper asked.

"Just a feeling," Rosalie confessed. "So what do you say?"

"We'd be honored," Alice said quickly, knowing that Jasper was flattered by the request and as excited as she was to accept.

Esme sniffled from the kitchen and Carlisle got up to give her a hug. They were going to be grandparents in less than a year and Esme couldn't make April come soon enough.

The guest vampires, stirred by the heavenly cooking and the oncoming of night wandered into the green room. Esme wiped her joyful tears away and they all awaited the arrival of Edward and Emmett.

They ate well while they waited.

"Can I tell Bella?" Alice asked.

* * *

Edward ran his hands through his hair; he was a ball of nerves. He did not know how he was going to explain to Bella that he was inside Emmett's head.

He looked down at the disk that promised to carry his voice to her. "Bella? It's Edward."

"Edward! How are you doing this?" Her voice rushed into his head like a welcome summer breeze. He would swear that he could even smell her. She smelled like a meadow.

"Emmett is helping me my love but I'll explain all that later. What can you tell me about where you are?"

"I'm in an unfinished train tunnel, somewhere underground."

"Underground? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, there is a ladder leading up to what sounds like a street. I think I'm still in the city somewhere."

"Yes, you're in Brooklyn," Edward told her. "Emmett and I are here too. It's where your voice is the strongest. We came at night but you were always sleeping."

"I was NOT always sleeping," Bella insisted. "I've been calling out for ages, even at night."

"I'm sorry about that Bella, my father was in danger. I'm here now and I am going to get you out of there."

"I love you so much, Edward. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm sorry I got myself into this mess."

"I love you, Bella."

"Edward? Michael is getting worse. He burned me the other day…"

Edward gasped. His shame was a garment that he did not think he would ever be able to take off.

Bella knew that he would be upset and continued quickly. "But I'm healing with the help of some vampire blood generously donated for my lunch."

"Michael says he wants me to get the book from Riley or he'll kill you."

"He's lying. He wants Jacob. He knows, Edward. And he wants to lure Jacob out."

"We'll keep him safe, don't worry. He's protected us enough to earn it."

Emmett chuckled. He could only hear Edward's side of the conversation and liked his friend's poignant statement.

"I do think he is capable of killing me, Edward. I don't know how much time I have before he tires of waiting."

"Has he said anything about the book?"

"No. I don't think he even cares about it anymore. He thinks it's pointing him to Jacob, and that's all he cares about for now."

"If you are right then we need to make sure that Jacob is very careful."

"He won't be, just so you know." Bella's laugh was music to his ears and it reminded Edward to let her in on the plan.

"We need to find out exactly where you are. Can you sing?"

"Sing? Why?…" Edward heard her mind click on the reason. "Oh, Edward! What a clever idea!" She immediately began to think of what she could sing that would not arouse suspicion. If she were allowed even a few moments, then Edward would be able to use his synesthesia to see the music erupting from the place on the ground where sunlight collected each day.

"The sun will be down in about an hour, and if I can see where you are then we will go back and get the others."

"I can almost get myself out."

"What?"

"I've been practicing what Michael does in secret. I'm close but I'm missing a vital step."

"How is he keeping you?"

"I have an anchor chain around my ankle. Even Jacob couldn't break it."

"So if you can't…get…through it, we will need a way to cut through it."

"Yes," Bella answered, "but it's as thick as my arm Edward, I don't know if you can."

"We'll figure it out, I promise. You will not be down there much longer."

"Edward…I miss you…" Bella began to sob.

"I miss you too." Edward buried his face in his hands and shared a soggy mournful moment with his fiancée.

Bella recovered first. "I will find a way to sing without rousing Michael's suspicion."

"I'll be watching."

* * *

Riley had a barrel of black and sharp smelling gunpowder, but it was the fifteen sticks of dynamite acting as a corset around the barrel that had him smiling into his tea.

"Have you found me a delivery man?" Riley asked Gerald, his stoic second in command.

"I have. He's right outside. Would you like to speak to him now?"

"Yes, send him in."

Riley was shocked to see a boy of no more than fourteen years enter his suite on the fourth floor of his Brooklyn building. The boy looked like he had not seen the inside of a hard slap, let alone be strong enough to carry the explosives.

"Who is this boy?"

"No one, sir," Gerald answered. He had been on his way out of the office to give his superior privacy with the interviewee. "He was looking for a job though."

"Does he live here?"

"No."

Riley sighed, killed the boy by twisting his neck and sighed again. "Find another."

He viciously shoved a silver plated tube into the cooling body and began sucking on the end. "Better yet," he said, siphoning the blood noisily. "I'll find him myself."

Riley went out that night. If he had first walked to the west, he would have seen Emmett and Edward standing in the middle of Atlantic Avenue, staring down at an invisible ribbon of music rising from a fist sized hole in a manhole cover.

Instead, Riley went east from his building, deeper into Brooklyn's natured core. He knew that he would find a lot of woodsmen there, and he wanted someone who did not come into the city very often but who knew how to use a cigar lighter.

He struck up a conversation with one such man while they both watched a trapper expertly skin a fox on the side of a packed dirt road that, if followed far enough, eventually turned into a pumpkin patch.

He determined that the fellow was of suitable intelligence and could tell by the state of the man's shoes that he did not often have two nickels to rub together.

"I have a proposition for you," Riley stated after the hunter walked back into the brush to reset his trap. "If you'll let me buy you dinner in town I would be happy to present the details."

The man eyed Riley skeptically. "What kind of proposition?"

"I require a man who can carry a barrel and keep his mouth shut," Riley said evenly. "Are you in or out?"

The man looked down at Riley's shoes. He could sell those shoes for a dollar. Riley saw the hunger in his eyes and knew that he had the right man.

"Come with me young fellow. You are going to be very handsomely paid for a very simple task."

The two men walked back to Brooklyn as Riley explained that his work with the city has landed him a contract to exterminate a monstrous rat population beneath the streets. He told the man that he had another important extermination on Manhattan Island and that he would pay half of what he was getting, sixteen dollars, if the man would perform his Brooklyn duties for him.

A deal was struck and Riley took the man to a downtown pub, where they both drank ale. Each one had something special to celebrate. The man could afford to finance his trip home to Oregon, and Riley could exterminate a monstrous rat population beneath the streets.

Riley supplied the man with one of several vacant rooms on the fifth floor of his building and showed him from a window the hole in which he was to light and drop the package.

"Anytime during the day?" he confirmed.

"Anytime after eight o'clock." Riley clarified. "We're forbidden to work at night. The city managers don't want us waking up the whole neighborhood."

"I'll do it after breakfast," he decided while scratching his chin. "Nine, maybe nine thirty."

"That would be fine." Riley paid the man and closed the door behind him as he left.

He went down to his own window and peered down at the intersection. He would have to leave the window to avoid the sun's dangerous grasp when it came up but he fully expected to hear the sound of Michael's demise.

He sat in candlelight and reread his journal. The last several deciphered pages had already been transcribed.

_The world grew small while__ he grew tired_

_And he met a woman he greatly admired_

_She gave him peace and children as well_

_And some had secrets they could not tell_

_Usually the__ boys and it skipped generations_

_Defying all known explanations_

_N__one of them actually knew that they were_

_A __very cursed race's miracle cure_

_For even a sip of their feral blood_

_Could let them swim in a solar flood_

Riley wanted to use the piano to get through a few more verses while he waited, but the truth about his discussion about not waking up the whole neighborhood made him abstain.

He realized sometime after midnight that he never got the name of Michael's killer.

He also did not notice that someone else was watching the street and the entrance to the tunnel.

* * *

Bella had been turned into a vampire at a young age, but as a human her voice had matured well beyond her years. Training and practice had softened her vocal cords and she sang with effortless power.

She knew that Michael was going to assume that anything she did out of the ordinary would be for trickery, so she had to chose a song that could stand up to his scrutiny. It had to be something that was either relevant and therefore commentary, or it had to be compelling enough for Michael to want her to continue.

She chose the _Ave Maria_.

Even as a child, Bella knew how to say the Hail Mary and even the Latin version was commonly spoken in church. She had sung several variations in the past but in the mid 1800's one of her favorite composers, Charles Gounod, set the Latin prayer to a small section of J.S. Bach's _The Well Tempered Clavier_.

She knew that Michael was sure to recognize the words and most likely Bach's music as well, but Gounod's _Ave Maria_ was not well known and she hoped that it would enthrall her former teacher.

When Edward told her that he and Emmett were going outside in the post dusk city to look for her, she gave them a few minutes and then opened her mouth and took in a breath of damp air.

Her voice was unpracticed but her first notes were true and chased each other around the cylindrical expanse. Michael sat up on his bed but when he looked over at Bella, he saw that she was kneeling in prayer.

The delicate prayer was sung with such a righteous voice that it put a haunting hand on Michael's heart. He opened his mouth with the intention of stopping Bella, but found he wanted to hear more.

She grew emotional as she filled the room with words and some of that emotion crept into her singing. She could not help but think that somewhere above, Edward was witnessing the sound of her ancient rite.

_**Ave Maria**__**  
**_

_**Gratia plena**__**  
**_

_**Dominus tecum**__**  
**_

_**Benedicta tu **_

_**In mulieribus et benedictus **_

_**Fructus ventris tui, Jesus **_

_**Sancta Maria**__**  
**_

_**Ora pro nobis peccatoribus**__**  
**_

_**Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae**__**  
**_

_**Amen.**_

Bella sang Amen twice. She had managed to get through her performance without crying, but just barely. Michael was pleasantly surprised by the sudden serenade, and having assumed that she herself put the familiar prayer to conventional music, applauded her creativity.

Bella saw that Michael was pleased but she was only concerned that that it had been enough for Edward to find her.

It was.

He was on Atlantic Avenue when she started singing and by the time she was finished, he was standing almost in the venting music and holding back tears of joy.

"Bella Voce."

Edward whispered tenderly before he began translating the prayer for Emmett, who could actually hear her strong voice from he stood on the sidewalk.

_**Hail Mary**__**  
**_

_**Full of grace**__**  
**_

_**The Lord is with thee**__**  
**_

_**Blessed art thou among women**__**  
**_

_**And blessed is the fruit of thy womb**__**  
**_

_**Jesus**__**  
**_

_**Holy Mary**__**  
**_

_**Mother of God**__**  
**_

_**Pray for us sinners**__**  
**_

_**Now and at the hour of our death**__**  
**_

_**Amen**_

Edward asked Emmett to see if he could pass along the message that they had discovered the entrance and would be planning her escape that very night.

Emmett, Edward and Bella all heard the speedy reply.

"_**He heard you, Bella."**_

Edward heard her relieved answer.

_Wonderful.__ I love you._

The two men walked back across the Brooklyn Bridge, but this time Edward had something far more beautiful to look at. He had Bella's face and fresh voice in his head and he would cradle and curse his splendid memory by the end of the night.

They rushed into the theatre to find their friends eagerly waiting in the delicious smelling green room.

"We found her." Edward was happy, but not smiling. He hated that he had to leave her behind, but he brought back the most significant piece of information they would need to bring Bella back.

Jacob stood up. The act alone spoke volumes about his loyalty. "Where is she?"

"She's underground," Emmett answered. "There is a manhole at Atlantic and Court. That's how we get in."

Jasper crossed the room to him. "What else do you know?"

"She says she's chained to the wall in an unused train tunnel. She says Michael and other vampires are down there with her."

Jacob had been fascinated with the strides the electric trolley car had taken and was a student of the famous tube system in Paris, but he had never known that there was an underground line in Brooklyn. He asked if she sounded unharmed and Edward assured him (and everyone else) that she was doing better than they could have hoped despite her hopeless predicament.

"She said that the chains are far too strong, but Michael must have a key." Edward thought aloud. "She has been trying to dissolve like Michael but that could still take days to perfect, maybe longer."

"Tell them about her ankle.' Emmett reminded Edward.

Edward grimaced. "Bella thinks that the simplest way is to break her ankle and reset it here at home."

"That's a great idea," Jasper said. "I wonder why she hasn't just flown out of there before now?"

"It's Michael," Emmett replied. "He's genuinely crazy and has already burned her."

"What!" Jacob's voice barked out.

"She says she's nearly healed already," Edward tried to reassure him. "But it was sunlight and she thinks she'll have a scar."

"She will if it was bad enough." Jasper confirmed.

"Anyway, she is convinced that staying put until she knew what we were doing was her best option…"

"It was," Jacob interjected. "She's smart."

"Bella knows that we are planning something and I can now go talk to her whenever I want." Edward explained.

"You can talk to her?" Alice asked.

"It's a long story," Emmett said. "But we can actually tell her ahead of time what we're planning."

"That will be helpful," Jasper was grateful for the information.

"I'm still concerned about Riley," Edward confessed. "He's been too quiet."

"Quiet is good, Edward," Alice responded. "And besides, he doesn't suspect anything about Jacob. Michael's the one we have to worry about…he came by today looking for you."

Edward's eyebrows met his hair. "What did you tell him?"

"We told him that you weren't here." Jasper answered.

"And then he started acting pretty crazy," Alice added.

"Crazy how?"

"He was pulling at his clothes and pacing like a tiger in a cage," she recalled. "And he asked for Jacob when you could not be produced."

"I wasn't home either." Jacob supplied. "We were out with your parents."

"Michael did not look stable." Jasper's choice of words was meant to resonate with the two other doctors in the room. Emmett nodded and Carlisle looked at his wife as if she might be snatched right out from under him.

"Did he say anything about Bella?" Edward asked.

Those present at the time looked at each other. Alice answered. "No, he never said a word. He asked for you, then Jacob, then went mad, then left."

"That's good," Edward told them. "She's not on his mind. She is taking advantage of some of his men for their blood rations. It is a dangerous game she's playing."

"When can we realistically go get her?" Edward looked toward Jacob and Jasper and interestingly enough, they both looked over at Lawrence.

Several of the new vampires were sitting at the table with them, quietly sampling Esme's superb cooking but they had remained silent. When the two men looked in Lawrence's direction, he swallowed the piece he was chewing and said exactly what Edward was praying someone would finally say.

"I think we should go as soon as possible."

Jasper inhaled, probably to object to such hasty action but Jacob beat him to the conversation.

"If we don't go tonight, then it has to be tomorrow." He was standing with his arm around Rosalie and looked down at her. He was expecting an objection, especially given Michael's newfound interest in him but she simply reached up and squeezed his hand.

"Tomorrow then." Jasper declared. "We will benefit from discussing things ahead of time, believe me."

Edward felt in his bones that the time had come, that they would plan all night, prepare all day and then fight for their lives. "Do you have any kind of a plan?" Edward asked hopefully.

"Actually,"' Boston, who was bigger than Jacob and as dark as a maple leaf in October had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. "If there's only one way in and out, Jasper has a few ideas that would work even better."

By dawn, the group had formulated a workable plan that intentionally utilized some of their new found abilities in order to further surprise to their opponents.

Their discussion moved up to the library and lasted all day until the church steeples outside their windows turned pink. Edward and Emmett said swift goodbyes and left for Brooklyn.

Jacob had already been gone for hours.

Everyone had their job to do and they tried several times to cut Jacob out of the mix in order to thwart Michael's perceived ultimate goal, but he just smiled and checked his pocket watch.

In the end, everyone was fine with letting him watch over the entrance in the daylight with the understanding that he would do it from inside a building where Michael would not easily see him.

Jacob left with a warm kiss to Rosalie's cheek and a gentle touch to her stomach. He promised to return safely and struck out when the streets were milky in moonlight and as quiet as they ever got on Manhattan.

Once in Brooklyn and watching over the place where Edward indicated she was being kept, Jacob would be close enough to report any activity to Edward by thinking loudly and clearly. Together, they knew that they could even warn Bella if Michael was gone and coming back in order for her to make one final attempt to drift free of the chain.

They had discussed the matter in the library at length, and Jasper had put it best when he told everyone gathered that Bella would either do it herself or they would have to do it for her.

He and Alice volunteered to spend the day working with some of the scholars to devise a method of breaking a chain as big as hers. The obvious choice was to kill Michael and take the key he surely had tucked in a pocket, but they were not counting on anything being that easy.

Jacob had not moved by the time sunlight leapt across the street and landed on the manhole cover. It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning. He found a bakery with dirty windows and sat behind the grimy glass to stay out of sight while he conducted his vigil.

He spoke out to Edward occasionally, knowing that he and Emmett were both at the rented hall by then.

_The pastries __here are delicious_, he offered once.

Edward heard Jacob's commentary but had to allow the rest of the world to come flooding back into his mind in order to do so. He liked it much better when it was only the sweet voice of his lover in his head, just as it was in his heart.

Edward noticed something interesting while listening to Jacob that morning. He could tell when Jacob's mouth was full even though he was thinking and not speaking.

It's funny what one becomes attuned to in times of crisis.

Edward and Emmett were sitting in the exact same seats they had occupied the day before. In his mind, Emmett had been greeted by Chester, who was wearing a bright purple bath robe and handed the stethoscope to Emmett before showing them to a quiet room and leaving with a slight bow.

"Are you curious about what function Chester serves?" Edward asked.

"Oh yes," Emmett replied. "I was planning to excuse myself to speak with him if time permitted today. I was going to do it last night, but I was nervous to go in there without you."

"In there? In there is in you." Edward smiled, but he understood completely and the look in his eyes told Emmett the same.

"I have determined that he is not a memory," Emmett offered. "I'm certain I would have remembered him."

"He's a patient," Edward observed.

"I know," Emmett said glumly. "This place is full of them."

"I noticed that."

"I'm going to figure things out later, but right now you need to talk into that thing." Emmett nudged his friend.

Edward did as he was asked. "Bella? Are you there?"

_I'm here Edward. What's the plan?_ She got right to the point.

Edward told her what they were going to do and when he got to the part about Jacob being right above her at that very moment she scolded him.

_Edward! If Michael goes up there Jac__ob will be all on his own!_

"We couldn't stop him, Bella," Edward explained. "You should have heard what he originally wanted to do."

Bella smiled, he was right. Then she frowned. _Does he know how much danger he is in?_

"We told him everything."

She listened to the rest of the plan and agreed to try her hardest to get herself through the chain if Michael left for the day.

Bella kept worrying about Jacob, but since she could usually smell bacon in the morning she assumed he was up there somewhere, eating.

Jacob could also smell bacon and had begun to believe that he had chosen the wrong place to spend the morning when his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a man bent over in the road and sliding the manhole cover aside.

_Edward, someone's going in!_ Jacob spit the thought out fast as he raced to the door. He stepped out into the warm sunlight and watched as a man lit a fuse attached to a barrel wrapped in sticks of dynamite.

_Oh Edward, she's in trouble!_ wasJacob's only thought as he pounded across the street.

"Hey! You there! Stop what you're doing!"

The man's eyes widened as he looked up and saw the large, angry man thundering towards him.

With his foot, the man pushed the barrel into the hole.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I am pleased to announce that this chapter also comes with a song. I was very fortunate to find a talented singer who could do justice to the voice I have described for Bella. Josie Nye made a special recording of the musical prayer just for us and the link is on my author's page.**

**I would also like to thank my friend, Mingo, for making this beautiful song available to everyone.**

**If you are interested in an alternative way to follow the verses discovered by Michael, Riley and Bella, I have published the poem as it's own story, "Michael's Book". I have included today's verses there and, as more are revealed, I will update the document. It is merely a reference tool.**

**The one shot I submitted for the Fandom Fights Tsunami campaign is a humorous piece called "Cockeyed Optimist: Episode Two, The Air Show." (Episode One was contributed to the Fandom Fights the Floods event). The outtakes are scheduled for delivery later this month. If you are interested in contributing, please see the link on my author's page for more information.**

**I will be contributing Episode Three of Cockeyed Optimist to the upcoming Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser in June. You can also find a link to that blog on my author's page.**

**See you next Saturday for Chapter Eighteen: Another Man's Trash**

**MOG**


	18. Chapter 18: Another Man's Trash

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns all three of Steve Martin's comedy albums.**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**Another Man's Trash**

From the moment it spilled over the Atlantic Ocean, sunlight streaked through long sections of Brooklyn and settled at its final resting place against a wall of the small theatre that Edward and Emmett were sitting in…again.

The rented hall, guaranteed to give them peace and quiet all day, held their bodies while their minds traveled to the structure of a hospital that Emmett used to store his life's experiences.

Emmett had an opportunity to look out one of the windows of his hospital and was not surprised to see that it was night time. He was, however, surprised to find that the building was at least two stories taller than he had first believed.

Edward held the stethoscope that magically granted his communication with Bella, cradling it like a dried flower. The lovers were talking about small things, keeping each other company until the sun completed its torturously long summer circuit.

Edward had also been listening to Jacob, who was a block away and watching over the entrance to the tunnel. The inability to sleep was his salvation in surveillance.

Jacob had expected his morning to consist of silent observation, but then he saw the man with the barrel before he could enjoy his third glass of milk. Jacob ran out of the bakery so fast that his chair followed him halfway to the door.

Edward was telling Bella about something Jasper had said about striking an opponent's throat whenever possible when he heard a surprised Jacob report that someone was opening the manhole cover.

"Bella," Edward repeated, "Jacob says someone's…"

"I hear it," she confirmed.

Edward then heard Jacob's next thoughts and his body stiffened with shock.

"Bella!" Edward gasped. "You're in danger…"

Bella had already called Michael's name. She knew that if anyone could deal with the immediacy of the situation, it was him.

Michael followed her gaze after she called his name and appeared next to the ladder a second before a small hissing barrel dropped into his hands. If it had hit the ground and broken, the gunpowder inside would have immediately ignited the powerful sticks of dynamite that were wrapped around it.

"Get rid of it!" Bella shouted, and Michael promptly disappeared. She saw him rocket upwards as he dissolved.

Michael raced through the cut earth and saw with anguish that if he had just taken a moment, he could have simply yanked the wick out of the barrel before the flame reached the hungry black powder he could smell within. In his current transparent state, he could do nothing but move it away quickly.

Since Michael had been living in the Atlantic Avenue tunnel with Bella and his loyalists he had often been reminded of that day he had spent in China, suspended as a ghost several feet underground and drifting.

The torturous memory of his witch friend,_ Wūpó, _haunted him most frequently as he floated up past the rungs spiked into the stone wall. And it crept into his brain as he swept up the shaft with the bomb in his hands.

He remembered the trapped feeling clearly as well as the unbelievable pain he experienced while holding himself in that altered state. It had felt like clenching a mental muscle and the exhaustion was a living thing.

He also remembered one other thing. The thing that had saved him.

Water.

Michael whooshed out of the hole facing west and sped towards the river.

Meanwhile, the man who had pushed the barrel scrambled away leaving Jacob frozen in shock and fear, and so he was the only one standing above the hole as Michael flew out. Michael had just enough time to recognize Bella's protector before he was under the murky East River and recovering his solid form.

The wick was immediately waterlogged and the black powder was ruined as soon as he stuck a handful of hard fingers into the wood so it could not float back to the surface. Michael then let go of the inert object, not bothering to watch it sink.

Instead, he burst out of the water and ran straight for Jacob.

* * *

Edward was listening intently to Jacob.

In his mind, he was still with Emmett and holding the stethoscope with nothing to say. Jacob was positive that the bomb should have gone off and when it didn't, he pursued the would-be assassin into a building across the street.

Michael was also a presence in Edward's mind and he could hear that the man mistakenly thought that Jacob dropped the explosive. The unlikely turn of events made Michael question everything he thought he knew about Bella and her group of friends and, above all, he hated being confused by something.

Michael had spent eternity feeling that way because of the book.

Edward followed the progress of both men and kept Bella and Emmett informed.

"Michael thinks Jacob dropped the barrel."

"How could he think that?" Bella was incredulous.

"I don't know," Edward answered. "And neither does he. Michael knows that Jacob would never hurt you, so this is really shocking to him. He took the bomb to the river and now he's coming back to confront him."

"Where is Jacob?"

Edward cocked his head to the side. "He's climbing stairs."

Michael was back in the intersection by then and was furious to find that Jacob had fled. He thought about going to the theatre for a long moment and Edward panicked. His parents had gone back to their uptown apartment building the night before but had plans on returning later in the day.

Bella called Michael's name, knowing that he was right above her.

"He heard you," Edward said. "It's working."

"Michael!" Bella called, frantically. "Michael! It wasn't Jacob!"

Edward froze. He realized her mistake well before she did, but Michael did forget about the theatre and came swooping back down the hole.

"How could you know it was Jacob?" He demanded, standing above her and close enough to have one foot on her chain.

Bella was still so upset she did not realize that she had tipped their hand. She thought that Michael was speaking literally. "It WASN'T Jacob, he didn't do it."

Michael was confused by her answer. It made him very angry.

"How did you know that Jacob was up there at all?" he asked in a shuddering voice.

Bella gulped.

Edward advised her. "Tell him that he called to you after Michael left."

Bella did so, but the look of relief on her face convinced Michael that she had made it up. "I'm not stupid," Michael spoke quietly. "I know that your friends would never hurt you…was the bomb a fake? To get me out of here for a while?" Michael began looking around the tunnel. All of his vampires were awake and watching them.

"No one came in," Phillip told him.

Michael looked down at Bella. "What was the plan? To blow ME up?"

"No!" Bella was astonished.

"Liar!" Michael struck Bella across the face. A few blocks away Edward cried out in rage.

* * *

"He hit her!" Edward was so upset that he lifted up out of Emmett's mind like a balloon released by a curious child. Emmett saw him disappear and opened his eyes.

"What's wrong, Edward?"

"I'm sorry," he said as he looked around at the empty auditorium of the rented theatre. "I couldn't help it."

"Is Bella alright?"

"She says she is. Michael walked away, but he isn't going to let her out of his sight anytime soon."

"What about Jacob?"

"He's moving quietly, listening at doors in the building the man ran into. He followed his scent to the top floor and thinks it's just a matter of minutes before he finds him."

"What do we do?"

"Let's go back in so I can talk to Bella."

"Alright."

It was difficult for Edward to relax enough to submit to Emmett's mental influence, but he did.

He was in a room he had never seen before but the stethoscope was there, on the floor. Emmett was there as well. Edward picked up the instrument as Emmett opened the door.

"Bella?"

_Edward, Where did you go?_

"This hallway is white." Emmett said from behind him.

"I'm sorry, Bella. When he hit you I got so mad that I jumped back into my body."

_D__on't worry. It was the last time he will ever touch me. I'm going to kill him tonight._

"Now wait, Bella," Edward said quickly. "That's not your part of the plan, we need you to…"

_Then whose part is it? _She thought angrily. _Who is assigned the task of killing Michael?_

"Edward, you should see this." Emmett sounded fascinated, but not alarmed. Edward decided it would have to wait.

_Edward?_

"It's my job, Bella." he told her decisively.

"Edward?" Emmett called again.

Bella was prepared to feel any number of emotions about who would kill Michael, but now that he had made his intentions clear, she was suddenly very afraid for Edward. "Isn't anybody else going to help you?"

Edward rose and walked over to look out the door Emmett had opened. "Well, we have certain redundancies in our fighting patterns but…"

_Edward?_

Bella knew that he was quoting something Jasper had said and wanted to lobby for a more physical involvement.

_Edward, are you there?_

"Wait a moment, Bella. I think Jacob found him."

It was all she needed to clear her mind and offer him an uninterrupted line. She had nothing else to offer. Edward was listening to Jacob, who had indeed found his man, but he was also looking out the door Emmett had just opened.

"It's heaven." Edward had no doubt in his mind.

He stepped out into foreign, yet decidedly miraculous surroundings.

Emmett nodded his head vigorously. "Yes. Heaven."

Edward understood that had he been given a lifetime to conjure a more beautiful and divine environment, he would not have come close. "Is this your mind Emmett or are we really here?"

"The stethoscope was here," Emmett observed. He did not think it possible that he could have envisioned anything so organically appealing, but the hospital door also looked the same. "I think it's the attic of my mental hospital."

Edward could not help but smirk at the pun, but held up his finger and cocked his head to the side.

Bella had been listening to the two men talk and when their conversation stopped she knew that something was happening with Jacob.

They all waited.

* * *

Jacob did not bother to knock, and as it turned out, the man never bothered to lock the door. The shades were pulled and Jacob stepped into a darkened room.

"Hey! You can't come in here!"

Jacob's eyes adjusted quickly. He saw the man sitting primly on the bed and he crossed the room in two powerful and frightening steps. His hand was around the man's neck before his feet stopped. His eyes were unlit coals of hate.

"Who put you up to that?" Jacob was only going to ask once. The simple fact that he had run into the building known to be Riley's hideout was all the information he really needed.

The man could tell that Jacob was close to snapping his spine and the savage way his eyes gobbled him up was enough to make him weep.

Jacob put him down. He was broken.

"There are people down there," Jacob growled. "Did you know that?"

The man shook his head. Jacob believed him.

"Who told you to do this?"

The man looked at the open door behind Jacob and pointed his finger.

"Him."

Jacob turned around and faced Riley.

The vampire was not alone.

* * *

Jasper and Alice were leading the preparations at the theatre. They had dismal luck coming up with a way through the thick anchor chain reported to be keeping Bella captive.

Edward had mentioned to Carlisle and Jasper earlier that she had considered breaking her foot and having one of the doctors reset it. They were both horrified and countered with the same objections Emmett had used to convince Bella that it was a poor option.

Jasper had given Bella and Alice a lecture on the proper setting of broken vampire bones the night Bella brought her severely wounded friend to the Notre Dame Cathedral. He had ended up with a topless woman on his altar and spent the night staring into her eyes.

He launched into a completely justified tirade about how Bella would limp for the rest of her life no matter what he did, and how she would probably have to break both the Calcaneus bone as well as all five Metatarsal bones.

Emmett nodded his head all the while in agreement.

Emmett had made both those arguments to Bella, and coupled with informing her that she would be of vital use minutes before their attack, stayed her actions.

Jasper and Alice easily determined that heat was impractical, not to mention dangerous, and that leverage was possible but only on a colossal scale that the tunnel's height prevented. They could come up with no other alternatives except for breaking the wall around the chain mount and taking everything with them.

Carlisle and Esme arrived early enough for breakfast, but as Esme walked into the green room she commented that with Jacob gone, there was hardly any point in cooking. Carlisle laughed. He had seen Jacob eat fourteen pieces of bacon while he waited for an eight egg omelet filled with cheese, peppers, mushrooms and more bacon.

Rosalie, alert for once in the morning, had been up since Jacob left and was sitting in a chair near the door.

Jasper told Rosalie about their dilemma with the chain, hoping that her scientific and creative mind could piece together a better solution. She puzzled over the matter and began considering various acidic solutions, but knew that any results in deterioration to the metal would take hours. They simply would not have the time.

"If we had a wire that was strong enough we could bite right through it like cheese just by twisting it, but I don't think anything like that exists."

Esme summed up the situation. "Sounds like you just need to make sure that Michael doesn't get away."

Jasper looked over at Alice, whose job it would be to guard the exit with Walter. "No one is getting out of there alive except for us," she said evenly.

Lawrence entered the room with Boston and Sam. They sat down and Sam floated an apple to each of them from the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

"Does anybody else want one?" he asked politely.

"I'll take one," Carlisle said and watched as a shiny red orb quivered and sprang from its nest and into his upturned hand.

"What are we discussing?" Lawrence asked.

"We have hit a wall with Bella's chain," Jasper explained, dryly.

"Us too." Sam lowered his head as he spoke and Boston looked positively sick over the matter.

"Our best advice is to pick the lock." Boston's low and pleasant voice rumbled out the best chance for success that Jasper had heard yet.

"There's the small matter of us being in the middle of a battle," he joked. "But what if we had some keys with us? We could get some likely sized keys and have a locksmith make us several combinations."

"I think it's a great idea," Esme said. "Carlisle and I can go do that, can't we dear?"

"Absolutely," he replied with a smile. "We'll leave this morning."

Alice clapped her hand to her mouth, but the scream escaped ahead of it.

Her eyes were round and wet and her mouth was a perfect 'o' beneath her small trembling hand.

"Alice!" Rosalie was next to her and walked her to a chair at the table. "What is it?"

She spoke slowly. "I don't know. It's a picture in my head…it's still there."

"A picture of what?" Rosalie asked.

"Jacob."

No one spoke. Alice did not know what else to say. Rosalie was stunned and everyone else was focused on the fact that Alice looked as white as London Fog.

Boston broke the silence. "Can you draw it?"

Alice knew that she could and nodded her head.

Lawrence produced a clean piece of paper and a charcoal pencil from his jacket. He had them in front of Alice within seconds.

She drew mostly with her eyes closed, letting her hand be guided by the image. It was like watching rain fall in a pattern on the paper. Her hand swept over the page and left bold lines in its artistic wake.

It was Jacob alright, but there was so much more.

Esme and Rosalie were focused on his face. It was contorted in rage and pain. His eyes were ragged and so was the hand that was reaching toward the artist drawing him.

Carlisle was the first to notice that there were many hands on Jacob. They were digging into his arms and legs and scratching his stomach as they pulled at him.

Jasper was fixated by the grotesque way Jacob's shoulder was bulging. He looked like Quasimodo, a character he related to well as they had both haunted the same sanctuary in Paris. Jasper hoped that Jacob was doing what he thought he was doing. It was going to be his only way out.

Rosalie shuddered in grief and fear at the mere possibility that Alice was drawing something that could happen; or worse yet something that was happening at that very moment.

Her eyes traveled to the savage hands rending Jacob's flesh and then to the flesh itself, which looked scarred and restless.

"What's happening to him?"

"He's transforming," Alice replied.

* * *

Riley stepped into the room, followed by four other vampires. They all looked ready to chew Jacob to pieces.

Jacob tried not to smile. He could not believe how easy it would be to open one of the window shades behind him and send them all scurrying and steaming from his path.

"You were almost too late to save your friend, Jacob. What took you so long?" Riley's voice was silky as always.

Jacob crossed his arms over his broad chest. "We didn't know where she was. Obviously, you did."

"Come now," Riley jeered. "I've seen Edward and that tree trunk of a fellow skulking around for days. Surely, you had discovered her location."

Jacob was not about to reveal Edward's telepathic talents, but he had to account for them being there in the first place. "What you call skulking, I call searching and you tried to kill her!" Jacob took a step forward in a show of aggression, but he was focused on the heavy canvas shades that blocked all outside light except for weathered tendrils creeping onto the window sill.

"Relax, big fella," Riley said sweetly. "We'll let you get her out. I already gave you nearly two weeks. Now, am I correct in assuming that I have to replace my gunpowder and accoutrements?"

Jacob looked at him through flames and he spoke in a voice that suggested the listener was literally standing on nitroglycerin. "You're lucky the bomb didn't work, Riley."

"Didn't work?" Riley was confused. "I thought you stopped him from detonating it."

"No, sir," the man interjected. "I lit it and kicked it in…It just didn't go off."

Riley looked at Jacob, who nodded his head. There would be no reason for either man to convince the other to lie about this detail. The wick was secure, Riley saw to that personally. The powder was good, it was rich and uncut, and the dynamite was impressive and expensive.

Riley opened his mouth to say something to Jacob but his eyes landed on his hired exterminator.

"Kill him." Riley ordered.

Jacob leapt backward. He was not quite in reach of the shades, but he was more concerned with fending off any possible strikes. He was fairly confident that Riley meant for the human to be sacrificed but was not willing to take his chances.

The two vampires in front of the gasping human fell upon him with a series of crunchy punches.

Jacob's startled reaction to Riley's instructions earned him snickers from the three vampires not otherwise engaged in murder.

Jacob took another step backward and Riley's eyes changed.

He knew what Jacob wanted to do.

And Jacob knew that he knew.

Everyone moved at once.

Jacob threw himself away from the trio of attackers and his fingers actually scraped the thin barrier to his salvation before an alert vampire who had completed his task with the human grabbed him by the leg.

When the rest caught up, his clothes were torn as dirty fingernails raked his skin and pulled him towards the door. Jacob could also feel his muscles being ruthlessly squeezed by powerful hands.

The pain made his decision for him.

Jacob exploded in a hurricane of fur and teeth that nearly doubled his already tremendous size and sent three of the five vampires holding him to the floor with stunning injuries.

He immediately tore two sets of shades off their rolls with a swipe of one large paw, only to discover that the windows had also been painted over.

Jacob was about to jab a hole in the glass, but a whisper from behind him made him turn.

"Oh my God, it's you." Riley was washed with a certainty that he was given this opportunity for a reason. He alone would have all the power and none of the consequences.

Just as Jacob turned to break the window, Riley struck as quick as a rattlesnake.

He snatched Jacob's bushy tail and bit down hard.

Jacob yelped in pain and then growled in fury as he spun on the fiend who was laughing ferociously through his bloody mouth.

Jacob glanced from Riley to the window.

"Go ahead, break it!" Riley's insides immediately began to seethe. His chest pounded with waves of pressure. He knew the intake of Jacob's blood was working.

Jacob was happy to oblige and kicked out with his hind legs, sending the remaining vampires sailing through a window that faced Court Street. All of the other vampires in the room immediately began to scream and steam.

Except for Riley.

He was holding his chest and wincing, but his skin was not crackling and grey.

Nor was it pale.

It was healthy and pink.

It took only seconds for the vampires on the floor to sizzle into ash and Riley watched them fade with little pity.

He then faced Jacob armed with a smirk and a thundering noise in his ears. "I've done it!" he heard himself say. "I can stand in the sun!"

Jacob leaned over and peeked out the window. There were smoldering clothes on the street, and as was customary in New York, the oddity was completely ignored.

He might have been more concerned with Riley's sudden ability, but he had recently gotten into such a habit of listening for his baby's heartbeat, that the decidedly human rhythm was an easily noticed addition to the silent room.

Jacob changed back into his human form and spoke with no sympathy.

"You're human."

Riley opened his mouth, then, slowly shook his head.

Jacob nodded in response. "Can't you feel your heart pounding in your chest? Can't you feel the blood in your head? I can hear it from here. You're alive, Riley."

"Alive?"

"Yes," Jacob said as he took a menacing step forward. "But not for long."

The last thing Riley saw was a large naked man's savage grin. His death was swifter than he deserved, but Jacob took his clothes and left him in the room where mice fed on his body for days.

On his way out of the building, Jacob caught Riley's vampire scent, the same one that was all over the clothes he was wearing, emanating from the 4th floor. He decided to investigate and came across the unlocked suite.

He was surprised to find five more sleeping vampires.

They, like Riley, were given the gift of a death that was swift.

Jacob found the book under Riley's pillow.

* * *

Edward extrapolated what he could by listening to the thoughts of all the fighting vampires at once. He spoke quickly into the stethoscope that he held close to his lips. Emmett and he were mesmerized by the festival of change as they looked from one part of heaven to another.

Their surroundings were far too distracting for Edward, who was deciphering an orchestra of thoughts. He walked back into the plainly appointed white room where he could focus on Jacob and keep his friends updated.

The fight happened fast. Edward clearly heard Jacob chortle at his foes when he saw that he was being confronted in a room full of windows with the shades drawn. He also told Emmett and Bella exactly what was spoken between them and could almost taste Jacob's disgust when they offhandedly killed the human.

When Edward heard Jacob respond to the searing pain at the hands of multiple attackers, he was fascinated to listen as the transformation took place.

There were considerable differences in the way Jacob thought as a wolf. He was far more simplistic, direct, and not surprisingly, brutal. Edward kept talking into the stethoscope and Emmett followed him back into the small hospital room.

"He's changing back." Edward told them. "They're talking again."

Edward opened his mouth in shock, but before he could tell Bella and Emmett what Jacob had just told Riley, he opened his mouth even wider and squeaked in shock.

"Riley's dead."

Emmett and Bella were silent.

"Riley's dead and Jacob is going to the theatre to talk to Jasper about the new developments."

Edward knew that Jacob had been bitten but it was the ingestion of vampire blood that turned a person. As he heard Jacob make his way down the stairs and into the compelling 4th floor hallway, he was thinking that his tail was already feeling better.

A few minutes later, Edward told them that Jacob had successfully wiped out the rest of Riley's men and recovered the book. When Jacob drifted from Edward's earshot, he and Emmett walked back into Heaven.

_Describe it to me._

Bella had no idea how difficult her request was. Edward and Emmett were standing in a meadow, the tall flowers were reaching for a blue sky but that was where the familiar ended.

On all sides of the meadow were various landscapes. It was as if time and place were on a wheel and the meadow was the hub. Edward could have walked into a desert or, by turning slightly, could have strolled into a fantastical city that owned the sky and reflected the sun.

Emmett leaned over and spoke into the stethoscope for the mute Edward. "For starters, we're standing in sunlight." He stood up straight and finished his statement, mostly to himself. "It's so warm. I had forgotten."

"It's as if God knew that we would have different tastes and catered to all of them." Edward was trying to piece together the engineering required for the fantastical tableau while simultaneously recognizing that the entire thing was the product of Emmett's imagination.

_And nothing more_, Edward thought. It was difficult to accept that such a place wasn't allowed to be real. _It's not fair._

Bella was enraptured. She had two other things she needed to attend to before the sun went down that night, but if Michael was not going to leave her then she would not be able to give her budding abilities their most focused try yet.

She kept an eye on him and noticed that he was looking up at her more often as well.

The tension built as the hours passed.

Bella encouraged the boys to explore Emmett's heaven and they shared their visions with her throughout the afternoon.

Edward kept listening for Jacob, knowing that any changes in the plan due to Riley's interference would be ferried back through his embattled friend.

He and Emmett walked through dusty streets and buzzing roads that were perfectly smooth and white. They glistened as if they were wet and the six wheeled carriages sped by with the sound of low harp strings.

They walked through forests that were blue then green and filled with air that smelled like crisp cold snow. They frequently saw stone sculptures and the artistry as well as the subject matter was stupendous and completely foreign. They both shared as much as they could with Bella but were rendered speechless at nearly every turn.

"I wonder if we share heaven with other cultures," Emmett pondered as they began walking over a wooden bridge that spanned a shallow but wide ravine of dense sherbet bush. "And not just the Dutch, I mean from other planets."

Edward had already seen enough to know that his hypothesis was intriguing. "It certainly looks that way." The bridge was sturdy and didn't even squeak as their bare feet touched the worn, warm wood. "But it's all in your head like this stethoscope suggests." Edward actually handed the instrument to Emmett. "So it stands to reason that you created all of this."

They were nearing the end of the bridge, and a sapphire castle began to enter their view. "Do you think you can control things here, Emmett? Make changes?"

"Like what?"

"Can you turn this bridge to stone? Or turn that castle pink?"

A few blocks away and two hundred feet underground, Bella wrinkled her nose and sent a thought to Edward.

_A pink castle with orange trees? Yuck._

Edward laughed. "Bella says not to turn the castle pink."

Emmett concentrated on the bridge and before their eyes the wood planks turned to set stones.

"He did it." Edward spoke into the stethoscope that Emmett was still holding. "He just turned the bridge to stone." Edward turned to his friend. "I can do something similar in my mind. This is definitely you, Emmett, but I must say that your version of heaven is beyond even my wildest hopes for the real thing."

"Thank you." Emmett didn't know what else to say.

They continued to explore the never-ending expanse until Bella told them that it was nearly time for her to progress with her part of the plan. Michael had been eyeballing her the whole day, and as the resident vampires stirred and spoke to one another, he openly stared at her.

It was going to be impossible for Bella to succeed if he was watching her so closely. She feared that she would ultimately prove useless in her own escape.

Edward heard her restrained thoughts and tried to comfort her, but Bella was unraveling fast.

_I hope he burns that book! _

She sent her salty thought loud enough to make Edward wonder if Jacob might have heard it all the way in Manhattan.

* * *

"If Jacob is changing, then something has gone terribly wrong," Jasper concluded after Alice had completed the picture of their suffering friend.

"Can you see anything else?" Rosalie asked Alice.

"Just this one picture," she answered. "It's burned into my mind."

"Mine too," Rosalie responded softly.

Lawrence studied the photo at great length. "This transformation is not taking place underground." He turned it out to everyone and pointed to the visible corner of a door frame. "He's inside somewhere, but not in a train tunnel."

"Does this alter the plan?" Sam asked.

"No," Jasper said easily. "We will still leave as soon as we can and meet up with Edward to ascertain any new developments."

Everyone was concerned with the person in that picture and Boston could feel the collective fear for Jacob's safety fill the room like poison gas. He projected something more suitable - confidence and hope.

Rosalie felt it immediately and did not know to thank the big man at the end of the table. Jasper felt it and nodded at his new friend. They all needed to feel good for a moment.

"He's very powerful in that form, Rosalie." Carlisle attempted to comfort his daughter. "They won't know what hit them."

"I know," she answered. "But he looks like he's in so much pain…"

Jasper was the first to look up, followed closely by the rest of the vampires in the room. "Someone just came in the front door," he said as he rose from the table.

Alice gasped again. "It's Jacob. I just saw him in the lobby. He's wearing clothes that are too small for him."

They all went into the auditorium to intercept him and Rosalie was already halfway up the aisle when the door to the lobby opened. "Jacob! Thank God you're alright!"

Jacob accepted her loving embrace and gave his friends a quizzical look over the top of her soft blonde head burrowing against his neck.

"Nice pants," Jasper called from the stage. He was referring to the plum breeches that ended mid-calf on Jacob.

Rosalie pulled back from him, the concern evident on her face. "Why did you have to change?"

Jacob's big brown eyes were as wide as rabbit holes as Alice held out the piece of paper she brought along with her.

Jacob took Rosalie by the hand and walked back up to join the others on the stage. The shipwreck set was in place and they all looked like castaways about to embark on a desperate migration.

Alice passed the page to Boston, who passed it to Carlisle, who passed it to Jacob as he walked up the sweeping diagonal ramp that crossed the orchestra pit.

"You look like you had a rough morning, son," Carlisle could see for himself that Jacob had some welts peeking out from behind the ill fitting clothes.

Jacob looked at the drawing for a long while. "Riley's dead," he said at last.

"Good riddance," Alice remarked.

Jacob reached into his borrowed jacket and pulled out the book. He crossed the stage and handed it to Jasper. "Can you squirrel this away until all this foolishness is over?"

"Certainly." Jasper took the book and tucked it away. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, but no one is there to look after Bella."

"Edward and Emmett are there," Rosalie reassured him. She wanted Jacob to stay at the theatre even though she knew it was selfish.

"We still have hours and hours before the sun sets," Jasper commented. "I think you should consider that you have already done your part and stay here to celebrate."

Jacob glared at Jasper.

"No," Rosalie's voice was quiet. "He should go, just look at what he can do. You'll need him there."

Jacob smiled, having her endorsement was an unexpected bonus given her previous statement.

"Does everyone remember what to do?" Jasper asked.

All the vampires present nodded their heads. "The others are in the library," Lawrence said. "Should we join them and go over things one last time?"

Jasper nodded, his grim expression betraying his feelings.

Everyone except Alice had a similar look of concern as even the humans went up the tower steps to speak to Walter, Yan, August, Sean and Dillon.

One by one, they went into the round room and greeted each other with frank simplicity. Again, Alice was the only one who was not melancholy. Actually, she seemed downright chipper, a fact that Walter pointed out when she came in.

"Why are you the only one who's smiling?" he asked her.

"I finally have my ability!" she squealed as she passed the sketch to him.

Walter looked down at the paper and immediately up at Jacob.

"Riley's dead. So are all the vampires with him."

"You did this by yourself?" Yan asked. "My God, man!"

"Riley hired a human to drop a dozen sticks of dynamite down the manhole." Jacob wanted to catch everybody up on events. "I didn't get there in time, but fortunately, it never exploded. I chased the culprit into Riley's building and he cornered me."

Jacob was standing next to Boston and, and next to him he looked like a child. It occurred to Jasper as he looked at the two of them that Boston might not even fit down the hole when it came time to storm the tunnel. Boston was looking down at Jacob, waiting patiently for the details on the deaths of at least nine slain victims.

"Alice's picture shows it all. They caught a hold of me and I transformed. That alone took out half of them and I kicked another one through a window, except…"

Jacob looked at Jasper. "Riley bit me."

The room was a vacuum of gasps. "Oh, Jacob. What does this mean?" Esme feared the worst.

"Nothing," he answered. "To me anyway but…it changed Riley."

"How?" Jasper asked the question for all of them.

Jacob took a moment to listen to the sweet motoring heartbeat of his unborn child as it played in between the heartbeats of its mother.

"It turned him human."

Everyone in the room was stupefied. It was a revelation that could potentially change the world and even the humans, especially the humans, understood that at once.

"Jacob," Carlisle said, reaching out to touch him in awe. "You're a miracle."

Jacob was still swimming in the sound of new life and felt that Carlisle's words were hastily spoken from any father. He opened his mouth to thank him nonetheless for the generous compliment, but never got the chance.

Alice screamed in surprise and fright.

"What is it?" Jasper asked, startled and concerned.

"Get me a piece of paper." A single tear fell from her round cheek like a stone.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Thank you everyone for your reviews and support of this story. I do appreciate it.**

**Although I am posting from the road today, I have to let you know that next week's chapter will be delayed. At least I didn't leave you with too dreadful a cliffhanger. Right?**

**Vacation calls, so I'll see you in two weeks for Chapter Nineteen.**

**MOG**


	19. Chapter 19: Up The Creek

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a little wind-up trolly from San Francisco that goes DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! It kind of sounds like a slot machine.**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**Up The Creek**

Alice's next sketch was not as detailed as her first. Its subjects were far away and stolen by greedy shadows. Still, no one could miss the heavy chain attached to Bella, it looked like a snake in the dark.

And she was kneeling over someone.

The round library in the tower was cozy to the large group of people in the room. Alice had been given the seat at the desk as well as a fresh piece of cream colored parchment and set to work while they all spoke in focused tones.

Jacob wanted a word alone with Rosalie and took her up to the tower's top level while Alice was still drawing and discovering her shapes in the flat blank sea. The couple climbed the stairs from the library and passed the magnificent bathroom with the white and green marbled tub.

Rosalie told him that his hair was dirty. "I'll wash it for you later if you want."

Jacob sighed at the anticipation of her soft but confident hands soaping up his scalp. As he walked up through the bedroom, he looked up at the high windows that wrapped around the space like jewels in a crown.

Jacob wondered just then what it would feel like to get a bath as a wolf; to have Rosalie soap up his fur in the huge tub that they had so far underused.

He was not in the habit of changing form in front of Rosalie because he was extremely paranoid about hurting her when he was in wolf form, choosing instead to leave her presence when it was inevitable. She understood and had shed her own tears at the horrible fate that befell a young Jacob.

She remembered that he had run away and come back and run away and come back and that broke her heart. He was a museum of information in a tantalizing body capped with a courageous heart and a fierce loyalty. She greatly admired him and never felt so much as a twinge of jealousy about his commitment to Bella.

In fact, she knew Jacob wanted to get back out to Brooklyn to compare notes with Edward and therefore assumed that he wanted to speak with her somewhere more private because he had something very important to say that couldn't wait. She was going to let him get it off his chest and support him as best she could.

Since becoming pregnant, Rosalie had not required as much sleep. She also lost her appetite for pasta and became even more amorous than she usually was. When she followed him through the bedroom, she informed Jacob of some other things she wanted to do for him in that room.

He blushed as she patted his behind.

They finally stepped up into the beautiful but nearly bare room. Only the square grand piano and its square stool graced the wooden floor.

"I'm going back out," Jacob began as he took Rosalie's hand and led her to the windows facing east. "Your brother has been in contact with Bella and hopefully he can tell me what happened down there."

Rosalie nodded her head, delighted with her prediction and glad that was all he wanted to do. Waiting out the sun's heavy hand with Edward and Emmett seemed like a perfectly acceptable request.

"I appreciate you talking about this with me ahead of time, Honeyspoon." Rosalie stroked his hair as she used his more…personal nickname. "But I understand what you are up against and if you need to go then just…"

Jacob's laughter would have looked like bouncing dark purple cotton candy to Edward if he had been up in the cone ceilinged room with them. He looked at his soul's mate and kissed each eyelid before continuing.

"I wanted to bring you up here to ask you a quick question about tonight's plan, but first there is something I need to tell you." He flashed a childlike grin. "You have changed… no… saved… my life." His next words came out shaky, such was his deep connection to his revelation. "Every morning…when the first birds tell me that dawn has broken…I realize that I love you…even more than the day before…my love for you is a part of me…it develops over time like other emotions…it's part of who I am."

"I love you, Jacob," Rosalie whispered back. She was grateful that her beast of a fiancé had a big heart to match his big hands. She took one of those big hands and placed it on her tightening belly. "You are a part of me."

He held her. Through the future and past he held her. Through the darkness and the light he held her. Through a thousand seasons and explosions in the sky he held her. Jacob chiseled the moment in his mind like it was a marbled masterpiece.

"I am going to love our baby forever," he spoke into her hair as he breathed in her clean scent.

Rosalie understood the gravity of his statement. By fathering a child, Jacob had sentenced himself to a guaranteed future that would forever be seasoned by the memory of his child's funeral.

"I know you will." Rosalie acknowledged as a hand crept up to his hot cheek. She knew that the brown eyes she looked into would weep immortal tears for them both and wished that she could siphon strength to him for those times.

She was doing more than she realized.

Jacob smiled and kissed her gently on the lips. "Now, about tonight."

"What is it?"

"I won't know for sure until I talk to Edward, but I suspect that Bella won't be able to get herself out of the chain today."

Rosalie nodded in understanding. She knew that the plan was to have Bella try one last time with all her might, but that depended on getting time away from Michael.

"You are a brilliant engineer, Rosalie." It was clear that Jacob meant every word, and the panoramic view of New York was in silent agreement. "If we can't get Bella out of that chain, is there anything she could do with it to tip the scales in our favor?

Rosalie thought for a moment. "I thought you wanted Bella to stay out of it.."

"Well, I did… but we are going to need her," he admitted. "So I need to find a way to use her."

"Are you more concerned about Michael or the rest of them?" she asked, really pondering the question now.

"The others," he answered quickly. "Your brother is going to have no trouble with Michael."

Rosalie hoped Jacob was right and set her mind to a group attack. It took almost a minute for her eyes to go from dark to light.

The people gathered in the library all heard Jacob's booming laughter a few moments before he and Rosalie reappeared downstairs.

Alice had just completed her picture and the last of the group was having their look at the kneeling prisoner.

"I'm going to speak with Edward," Jacob told them all as he stepped down into the room. "I'll meet you at the Brooklyn theatre, but while I'm gone Rosalie is going to fill you in on a good addition to the plan. Boston, I suspect we will need you for it to work. I'm off to get word to Bella."

With that, he was gone and on his way back to Brooklyn. It happened so fast that at least three of the vampires needed the sentence repeated to them. Lawrence watched out the window and saw Jacob mix in with the other bustling people on the street.

Boston, who was still not sure he could even fit down a manhole, was intrigued but it was Jasper that Rosalie turned to when she revealed her idea. She was just used to him calling the shots and he always seemed to like her input.

He smiled broadly as did the rest of them when she repeated her plan to use Bella and her predicament. She told them that the key would be a matter of motivation and they agreed with happy eyes.

Sam slapped his knee and Carlisle snorted loud enough for Esme to jump.

Some liked the childlike strategy of it. Others responded to its ruthless efficiency. Boston admired it and shook his head at the simple savagery.

"I can make them run like water," he declared. "It will work all too well I think."

"This changes everything," Jasper said. "We need to send in just a few people at first to make this count."

Alice shook her head. "It's too risky. We all need to go at once."

"Then it won't work," Jasper concluded.

Alice shook her head. "Not worth it."

"How about a compromise?"

"I'm listening."

Rosalie was pleased that they were actually using her idea and was congratulating herself when she caught a glimpse of Alice's completed picture. It was sitting on the desk, having been put down by the last one of the vampires to see it.

No one else recognized the dark figure Bella was kneeling over, but to Rosalie his shape was unmistakable. Rosalie even thought that Bella would have also recognized him.

She looked up with terror in her eyes.

"Jacob."

* * *

Bella knew that as long as Michael was watching her, she was helpless to attempt getting out of her chain. Her whole body shimmered whenever she tried and she had to suffer his darted glares all afternoon.

She was so frustrated that she wanted to cry. She felt helpless to assist in her own rescue. Bella remembered Emmett feeling useless when they were getting ready to move to New York from Paris and she even remembered reassuring him that he would actually be downright vital to them.

Edward could hear her thought progression, and she was making his case for him, so he just offered a mental chuckle.

That chuckle, she couldn't believe that now she had to listen to it inside her own brain.

But it made her smile and her raised cheek altered the course of the first tear that would have fallen to her trembling white hands.

Edward and Emmett had stopped in a completely alien part of the heavenly and ever surprising landscape inside Emmett's mind. He and Edward had previously visited what they assumed to be the only three floors in his "mental hospital" but the attic proved to be nothing short of the everlasting and no matter how strange it felt to them both, it also felt like home.

They had been strolling around, describing things to Bella in an attempt to cheer her up and pass the time but they eventually just had to stop and process their surroundings.

They were in a vertical city. The buildings were made of trillions of wedge shaped pieces of cobalt rock. They had little bits and pieces of the wedges sticking out all over, making the buildings appear as though they had stubble.

They rose so high that their tops could not be seen and grew so close together that the sky was literally filled with windows that shined orange light into one another.

Edward was describing the buildings to Bella, telling her how much bigger they were in the middle, when she lost the sound of his voice.

She waited for a few minutes and looked over at Michael, who had his eyes locked on her. He was muttering something to himself and his lips were curled back.

She wondered how long he had been watching her. She had gotten lost in the descriptions of the strange new land and had not noticed his vigorous observation.

"Sorry about that, Bella." Edward's voice was an eternity in coming but she never called out for him once. A feat she was proud of, so much that she put it out of her mind quickly so he wouldn't know it.

_Did you__ tell Jacob that Michael thinks HE pushed the barrel down?_

"We discussed everything, and I can't wait to tell you all the developments. But for now listen, we have a new plan and we need you to spring a trap for us."

Bella was overjoyed, but her face immediately betrayed her and Michael responded by grinning broadly. It was a sinister grin, full of victory and madness. Her elation was swallowed by paranoia.

Edward's inner voice had changed. He was excited, he was confident. She looked straight into Michael's dancing eyes and thought very hard.

_I'm ready, and tell him thank you._

"Actually," That chuckle again. "He tells me that it was Rosalie's idea."

She smiled. _Just like her. _Bella was thinking about the story she had been writing on Emmett's futuristic typewriter and the main character she had based on her soon-to-be-sister-in-law.

Edward spent the next hour going in and out of contact with Bella so he could converse with Jacob.

She spent that time thinking about her simple yet deadly part in the battle plan, but was desperately hoping to sneak in a few well placed suggestions to the men who were beginning to stir around her.

Only Michael had remained awake all day.

He was still watching Bella too closely for her to even speak to any of the men around her. It was also unfortunate that she couldn't get any extra blood that day.

She shared her frustration with Edward who, in turn, told Jacob.

"She just needs ten minutes," Edward told him. "But I don't think she's going to get it before the sun sets."

Jacob was on his feet and out the door before Edward's mouth could hit the floor.

Edward looked at Emmett, who reflected a similar shocked expression. "Now you're in trouble," he stated.

* * *

Carlisle and Esme were on the Manhattan streets shortly after Jacob left. They were set to locate some possible keys that might unlock Bella. As they were walking down the stone steps leading from the Theatre of the Heart, Rosalie came out declaring that she was going with them.

"I know what you're up to," Carlisle told her. "You are going to give us the slip the first chance you get and go looking for Jacob."

Esme looked at her daughter in shock. "Is that what you're planning?"

"No!" Rosalie exclaimed. "I simply want to help."

They looked at her. She knew that look.

"I did install all the locks in this theatre," she reminded her parents.

Carlisle nodded his head. "You're right, but…"

"Do you even know where Billy's shop moved to?" Rosalie could guarantee that her father did not know their favorite locksmith had relocated to 20th Street. She was certain that he wouldn't even have been able to find the old place.

"Well, no but…"

"And are you aware that there is a difference between a tumbler key and a latch key and we will most likely be needing a latch key?" She recognized his puzzlement. "Something to reach inside and release the catch."

Carlisle looked impressed, but then his face was wide with suspicion. "Did you just make that up?"

"How dare you!" Rosalie put just enough shrillness into her outburst to make passersby turn expecting to see a fellow get clobbered by an umbrella wielding damsel.

"Come now dear." Esme was blushing and tugging on Carlisle's jacket. "She wants to help, let her help."

Carlisle smiled at his wife and then at his daughter. "After you," he said with a pleasant gesture to the sidewalk before them. "But remember that I can still run faster than you and I _will_ chase you down if you make a break for it."

Both women sighed.

"Fine." Rosalie smiled sweetly at her father as she passed.

She marched them to the train platform a few blocks away and Carlisle put his hands on his hips like he had seen her do so many times in her childhood.

Her hair back then back then was a platinum blonde that had been almost white and with her hands on her hips, or better yet a good old fashioned finger waggling, she looked like a miniature grandma.

She was feisty from the get go but was most fearsome when she was defending her baby brother. Both parents were held hostage to rules pertaining to his care and education.

Esme even let Rosalie dress Edward up as a princess when Carlisle was out. There had been several afternoons where a five-year old Rosalie danced with a two year old Lady Edward, while a twenty-nine year old Esme played simple made up songs on the piano.

Edward's first memory of playing the piano came with lipstick and lace.

Carlisle had been told of his son's sudden interest and aptitude of the musical instrument and when he smelled the lipstick on Edward's mouth, his precocious daughter tried to tell him that it was strawberry juice.

She never stopped trying to get away with obvious deception and Carlisle suspected that it was mostly his fault. He fed the behavior because it was cute and he always knew that manipulation was a sign of high intelligence.

Rosalie was halfway up the steps to the raised train platform when she noticed her father standing, elbows out, at the bottom of the steps.

"You don't actually think that I'm going to let you walk right up to where the Brooklyn bound train just happens to be waiting, do you?"

Rosalie smiled again. "We'll wait until it leaves." She walked back down the stairs and stood with him under the criss-cross of shadow and sun.

"I thought we were going to Billy's," Carlisle stated casually.

"Billy is a structural locksmith." Rosalie waved her hand like she was shooing away a bee. "We need someone who specializes in restraints."

She did not so much as look up when the train rumbled to life and squeaked above their heads as it slithered east. When it was gone, she walked up the sturdy plank steps to the platform and purchased tickets for all of them from a hazel eyed young man who looked like he wanted to be somewhere else.

She handed her father his. "We're going north," she announced. "To Riker's Island."

"What?" Both her parents sounded like geese honking over still lake air.

"Do you have a better place in mind?" She asked the question seriously and waited for an answer. Rosalie was patient; she could afford to be because the uptown train was not, and it was already competing with the commotion of the departing train.

They all watched as the trains passed each other. Theirs began to slow down only after it was halfway along the platform. The warm breeze was filled with grit that either put a painful particle in one's eye or dirt on the tongue.

Carlisle looked at Esme, who shrugged her shoulders. "She seems to know what she's doing."

When the train stopped, Carlisle again gestured for his daughter to go before him. He could easily imagine her stepping back off just as the doors were closing, leaving them stuck and her on the platform to catch the next train across the river.

Rosalie expected the suspicion, applauded it even and went deep into the busy train and sat down. Her parents sat down next to her but Carlisle did not relax until they were under way.

"All we really have to do is purchase a few sets of shackles," Rosalie stated, "and different makers if possible."

"Won't they ask questions?" Esme asked.

"They might, but they will be looking for a bribe so the sooner we hold out some money, the sooner they scurry off to get us what we asked for." Rosalie looked at her father, making sure he took her meaning.

He had sincerely expected her to try something clever, but speeding away from her desired location and already talking about the task at hand made it hard to hold onto his convictions.

"How much do you think it will take?" Carlisle asked, suddenly concerned that he had not brought enough cash for a bribe.

Rosalie reached into a delicate cream colored handbag and discretely passed her father a great wad of bills.

"Thank you."

She smiled and scooted further into her seat as people settled in for the ride north. The train would take its passengers almost all the way up to East 90th Street, which is where one could catch a ferry over to the prison island, among others.

The train moved briskly but this did little to stifle the building heat in the narrow cars. Carlisle had long since given up his seat for a plump woman dressed in a peach dress that made her look a bit too much like the actual fruit.

He had been jostled several rows away but they had discussed all the necessary details of the errand so he let his mind wander. He could see people on the sidewalks below get painted by the passing shadow and felt that they were special somehow to have been touched by something so fleeting.

When they reached the end of the line, the train stopped and everyone stood up at once. It was a chaotic jungle of flesh that had even Esme and Rosalie losing sight of each other.

Carlisle got out onto the platform first and stood back to wait for his traveling companions. People were streaming out of the train from both sides and Carlisle wore a casual and curious look until he saw his wife, alone.

There were several people waiting to board the train and they had begun to claim their damp seats with still no sign of Rosalie.

Carlisle walked up and down the cars, peering into the windows. He knew that the train was going right back into the city and that if Rosalie thought she was going to hide in there, she was crazy.

It all made sense to him. She had told him exactly how to get keys and even given him the money to bribe the guards. Rosalie knew she was not going to be there.

"Oh yes she is," he said under his breath as he actually entered the train and inspected people like he was a conductor looking for vagrants. He got out just as the doors were closing and even ran along the side of the very last car in his search just to make sure.

"I don't think she was on it," he said to Esme. "But where could she be?"

They looked around the platform but Rosalie was nowhere in sight.

"She must have still been on the train." Esme said at last.

Carlisle nodded his head. He was certain that he had not missed her, but then again, she could have been watching him and waiting until he passed a car. He couldn't check twice.

Carlisle and Esme walked arm in arm down the stairs and rounded the corner where 90th Street met York Avenue. They saw one ferry already docked and two more visible in the water behind it.

One of them was just leaving and was headed straight for Brooklyn.

A blond woman blew her father a kiss from the rail of that boat.

* * *

Bella was waiting for Edward's caramel voice to return to her mind but before it could, she heard Jacob call Michael's name down the hole.

"Riley's dead." His voice sank to the ground like a stone and leapt out like the would-be bomb that was dropped earlier in the day.

Every vampire stood up and more than half of them rushed for the ladder.

"Fools!" Michael's scratchy but powerful voice stomped on the toes of those in motion. "Let me pass."

Michael shimmered and did not bother to give them the time to make way. He drifted through them and left a mossy taste in their mouths.

Bella didn't know whether to be angry or appreciative. She steamed at the idea of Jacob isolating himself with Michael, but she now had a chance to put her powers of persuasion to good use, if not a concerted effort against her chain.

"Bella! Jacob ran off…I couldn't stop him…"

_He's here__. He just called Michael up to the street._

"Try to get through the chain, Bella. Try your hardest!" Edward was practically panicked to get use out of Jacob's gesture. Bella could hear it on him like a flat note.

_I need to__ enchant as many of these fellows as I can. _

"No, get yourself free. This is your only chance."

_I know, and this is the best use of my time, which is running out!_

Edward knew his best friend well. She was much wiser than he, and he graciously recognized that more often than not.

This was not one of those times.

He selfishly, knowingly selfishly, insisted that Bella instead concentrate on making the chain pass through her body.

Bella sighed and tuned him out. She had no choice. Bella loved him but she had work to do. She started waving everyone over to her while Edward lectured her about the importance of clarity of thought and focus on the objective.

_If you stop clucking in my head like my own personal worry chicken, I might be able to do both._

That shut Edward up. He left her alone and just listened while catching Emmett up on the most recent developments.

After talking with Jacob, Emmett and Edward went back into the hospital but entered it on the second floor. They were actually a bit relieved because heaven was wildly distracting.

"Jacob called Michael out and Bella is talking to the other vampires."

_I hope this works._

She thought as a prayer to Edward before she gave the vampires the last order they would ever receive.

Emmett looked at his watch…only, he was not wearing a watch in his mind; he was wearing a hospital gown. They both were. "How much time until sunset?" he asked, exasperated at the way he dressed himself and his guests.

"It's still a few hours away," Edward told him. "The sun is in Michael's eyes. Jacob made sure of it."

"I killed Riley," Jacob clarified. "He paid a human to drop explosives down into your filthy little den."

"Bella told me it wasn't you. She seemed quite positive of it."

"Of course she is."

"And you killed Riley?"

"At about ten thirty this morning."

"What about the book?"

Jacob's look of confusion was convincing enough that Michael feared the boy was a simpleton after all.

"The book, you fool. The red book Bella was reading to me."

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "It's got to be up there somewhere?"

"Up where?"

Jacob pointed to Riley's building across the street. "Up there. Riley has been spying on you from the fourth floor for weeks."

Michael was furious. He felt suddenly felt like the simpleton and it was a sour experience for Edward, who was listening from a few blocks away.

"Do what you can, Bella," Edward urged into the stethoscope. "Jacob has his complete attention."

Michael wanted to investigate Riley's building immediately but would not be lured away so easily. He knew that if Jacob could kill Riley that he was powerful indeed. He was not the least bit frightened of the man but decided to stay outside and talk to his new prize.

"Why would he try to kill us?"

Jacob looked like he wanted to change the subject and his twitching hand suggested that he wanted to do more than that. Edward heard him think of how Michael hit Bella but did not want to kick the hornet's nest. Michael had a tendency to flee when confronted and Jacob's task was to buy Bella time.

He swallowed his momentary rage and Edward was always amazed at Jacob's ability to tuck any emotion away like it was shiny cigarette lighter, every emotion that is, except joy.

The realization was profound for Edward. Jacob was a master of self-control except when he was happy.

He certainly did not run the risk of that as he scowled at Michael's squinting face and answered his question with one of his own.

"Why shouldn't Riley want to blow you up? He had the book, he had a piano. He had probably read the whole thing by now."

Michael's eyes widened. Jacob held his poker face but Edward could clearly hear a mental booming that signaled his big friend's laughter.

"He probably knew that he didn't need either of you any more."

"No," Michael agreed. "He needed you."

It was then Jacob's turn to look surprised. He had not expected Michael to play his hand so quickly.

"And that means you need me too." Jacob crossed his arms. His expectations were clear.

"I'm not going to let her go based on your word."

"YOU are the one who breaks promises, Michael," Jacob retorted quickly. "I will be back for her at sundown."

"Now look here young man…"

Jacob was happy to let Michael think that he had delayed him. He turned back around with effort and waited.

"I still have no assurances that I will recover the book…"

"Nor will you get one." Jacob slipped his words in like a poison dart, weakening Michael.

"I will give you one night as your guest in exchange for Bella's freedom and I will be back at sunset."

"I'm sure you think that's a fair trade but I don't think you realize…"

"Michael?" Jacob leaned in, inviting the mossy aroma that came from close proximity to him. "This is your last chance. If you do not hand her over, you and your protectors will die.

Michael smirked and the expression worked itself into a smug smile. "So, you think you can take her?"

"I know we can." Jacob smiled. His big bright teeth mocked Michael then his expression underwent a transformation. Jacob grew ugly, his face distorted into a sharpened mask with bark for skin and bullets for eyes. "You are never going to hit her again." He spoke the words like a commandment and then looked at Michael like he actually expected him to etch the words in a tablet.

Michael hid his surprise. There was no way Jacob could have known that he had slapped her. He held a neutral look but his suspicions had just been confirmed. Jacob had given him two very important pieces of information, three if he counted the death of Riley and the possible location of the book.

"I hope you know that I will be ready for you now," Michael sneered. His suspicions had all but been confirmed and he felt sorry for the naïve boy. "You just lost your element of surprise."

Somewhere nearby, Edward agreed with the fallen priest but could also hear that his thoughts quickly turned to Bella and her mental abilities.

"It's only fair," Jacob observed.

* * *

Carlisle and Esme returned to the theatre when the fat shadows of buildings left entire blocks in late evening darkness. Overhead, the stark blue sky betrayed the murky sidewalks and every street corner was drenched in golden heat.

Women were not allowed into the prison, or to even disembark on the island, so Esme had to ride the ferry back and forth until Carlisle returned with what looked like an armload of chains.

He had a feeling that his daughter had already known that she would not have been permitted inside. He should have known that would be the case himself. She was an intelligent woman and all he could do was hope that she was going to be back home safe by the time the sun went down.

The vampires had moved to the more accommodating green room and all conversation stopped when Carlisle tossed six keys onto the table.

"They tell me at Riker's that these six keys will open any restraint lock ever made."

Alice literally jumped for joy, her tiny hands clapping together like hummingbird wings. Jasper and Lawrence both looked substantially relieved.

August and Sam both stepped up to the table and each pocketed three keys. They were on lock detail given each of their special skills manipulating objects. Whichever of them got to Bella first they each had methods of getting the keys from their partners that no one else could match.

Sam could use his telekinesis to float the trio of keys right from the pocket of the pants August was wearing if he got to Bella first and his did not work on her lock. If it was August who reached Bella first, Sam could toss his keys anywhere towards the quick vampire and he would pluck them all out of the air with one hand.

"You two know what to do," Jasper said, "but remember, Boston and I are going down first to try Rosalie's plan.

"Yes, but now that we have the keys, Bella won't need to resort to it."

"I want her to resort to it," Jasper countered. "If it works this whole thing could be over before it starts."

"That's what they're afraid of." Even when Boston whispered, his voice was deep and rumbling…and audible, especially in a room full of vampires.

A warm chuckle followed the comment and Jasper nodded his head. "I am not asking you to stay out of it. We just need two minutes to spring this trap and it will require their undivided attention."

"Actually, it could be dangerous for any vampires in the room," Boston said with a knowing look to Jasper.

"That's right." Jasper just had another argument and he would thank Boston later for it. "He's going to try something that could drive anyone in the room insane."

"What about you?" Esme asked.

"I will be standing behind him for that part," Jasper answered.

"What about Bella?" Carlisle asked.

"Edward told her what was going to happen. She is going to resist it with his help."

"So he is going down after you two?" Esme asked. She was never in on the planning and was curious and concerned.

"He's going in first," Jasper said. "He insisted on it."

Carlisle and Esme looked at each other, their eyes touched first, then their smiles. "He'll be alright," Carlisle said.

"Hey." Jasper began looking around. "Where's Rosalie?"

"She gave us the slip on a train platform and took the ferry to Brooklyn," Carlisle told them.

"She lost you on the train platform by taking a ferry?" Alice began to giggle. She had always admired Rosalie's pip.

"Well…" Esme attempted to think of a way to put her husband in a better light. "Yes." She began to giggle as well.

Carlisle did not mind, it was funny after all. Alice gave him a comforting hug but stiffened in his arms and yelped in horror.

"What is it?" Carlisle held onto her when her knees buckled and lowered her to one of the many green room chairs.

"Get her some paper please," Lawrence instructed. He knew that look by then.

Sam brought some down from the library and handed a sheet over to Alice. She scooted to the table and began feverishly scribbling.

It took her at least five minutes and Alice felt that each second was the one that made it all too late. That she was too slow. The tears were blurring her vision and adding a savage emotion to the final picture. When her tears fell to the page, she wiped them all straight down, making a jagged lower border.

Edward and Emmett were sitting side by side in theatre seats. They looked like they were sleeping. Behind them stood Michael, grinning like a cat at a nest of unprotected baby birds.

* * *

Rosalie enjoyed the trip across the East River but hers was a much shorter trip than her parents'. She actually envied their northern steam which would take them up the river to Bowery Bay.

She looked over at the Brooklyn Bridge and imagined a New York where the river was spanned by three more just like it, and across to New Jersey as well.

Rosalie liked New Jersey. It was always so green and smelled wonderful in the springtime.

Once in Brooklyn, she could not find a cab anywhere but she was on the west shore of the island which was not often patrolled by those driving the black open top carriages.

She started to walk south and keep her eyes open for a ride, but sixty six blocks and two hours later, she stood in front of a big downtown Brooklyn hotel where no less than four cabs were parked; their drivers enjoying a smoke and a laugh with the bellman.

They were subjugated to a rueful tirade from a pretty blond girl who then politely asked them where she could find the Monarch Theatre. They obliged and sent her off in the right direction with bemused looks competing on their faces.

Rosalie followed her stretched shadow down the clean sidewalk and even resisted the urge to peer into the well appointed window stages.

She saw Jacob standing in the road several blocks up and stopped cold. The sun was shining directly onto his raven hair, turning it the dark blue color between the stars at midnight.

Rosalie knew that she was in danger, Jacob was talking with Michael. He was in a long coat and wide hat, but within the shade of his garments he shimmered like a pond.

She watched the two men, they stood directly in the road but as usual, New York ignored her freaks. They passed from above in carriages and once a milkman even waggled a glass bottle at them.

Rosalie smiled to herself. She knew that Jacob had secretly wished the man would have thrown the milk at them so he could have caught it and enjoyed his favorite beverage.

She stepped into a dress shop and through the window display, watched the two men closely.

Jacob was enormous compared to the slight build of her former captor. She could still see half of Michael's shadowed face and he was changing expressions like an infant. Jacob's arms were crossed, making it look like he was a stern father punishing a bawling baby.

Jacob turned to leave and Rosalie hurried to the door of the shop. She saw his face in that moment and he looked a trifle confused by something, then he stopped and grinned broadly before turning back around to face Michael.

Rosalie waited there in the doorway, apologizing for her behavior to the shopkeeper but offering no explanation for it. The men talked for a bit more before Michael suddenly disappeared.

He had dropped down the hole and Jacob turned toward her once again and began angling over to the opposite sidewalk. He turned down the first street he came to and she lost sight of him, so she walked out into the warm air to follow.

She looked for traffic before crossing Atlantic Avenue and saw Michael's hat peeking up from the manhole. He was watching Jacob and when, he too, lost sight of him, he popped up like a prairie dog and began walking quickly to catch up.

Rosalie turned her head away when he glanced in her direction and easily passed for any lady attempting to cross a busy street.

When he moved, she moved and got to the corner about twenty seconds after he did.

They could both see Jacob enter a dusty little theatre that had shades pulled over the windows in the front doors.

Michael walked in without ever looking back and Rosalie followed him in about a minute later.

When she entered the dark building she swept in a few brightly lit dust particles that flocked together before floating away in the gloomy lobby.

It was silent, the kind of silent that made the air colder. She stood in one spot to let her eyes adjust to the blackness that looked as if it was reaching out for her.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Thank you all for your concern for the young man to whom this story is dedicated. The whole family is doing great and now I have one more reason to admire my son.**

**I plan to continue 'Cockeyed Optimist' and have already released two more episodes through various fandom charitable contributions. They will be posted here as soon as they are available for public release.**

**I was surprised to learn that I was nominated for a Shimmer Award in the category of Storyteller Award (Best Author) for 'Brutte Parole'. I wish to thank the person responsible for putting my name forward. I would also like to congratulate the authors nominated; it is a treat to be on the same list with them. ****Nominations are still being accepted but be sure and check the blog to see if your favorite stories are included: shimmerawards(dot)blogspot(com).**

**And finally, I'm happy to say that I'll see you next Saturday for Chapter 20: Down The Hatch.**

**MOG**


	20. Chapter 20: Down The Hatch

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear wrote on the walls (as a child.)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty****:**

**Down the Hatch**

Brooklyn had a quiet side. At times even downtown held its breath and Jacob walked through what seemed like a painting. He was on his way back to the small theatre that Emmett had rented, hoping the two men would not be too upset that he had given so much information to Michael.

He had a good reason.

He entered the dark lobby and turned to enter the auditorium, but caught sight of the washroom and decided to take advantage of the facilities instead.

The small dark blue room had a trio of lights over twin sinks and they made a singular hum that Jacob matched as he splashed water on his face.

He knew that Edward was expecting him and probably heard him humming, so he sent out a thought to his friend announcing that he was already in the building and would join them soon. Jacob was in no rush to get into the auditorium since he knew that the pair of them probably still had their eyes open but their mouths were slack and heads that lolled on passive necks.

It was a lot like sitting in the dark with two corpses.

He snickered at the literal truth of the observation, but quickly offered an apology to Edward in case he was still listening.

Edward was listening, but mostly to Bella. She had managed to make a very important suggestion to every one of Michael's vampires down in the tunnel while Jacob had kept the old priest occupied.

Bella told each of Michael's men that they would reject all mind control from that moment forward. She made sure that any future attempts to control them would fail and that neither she nor Michael would be able to force them into servitude again.

After all, she had taken advantage of them as well and this would give them their freedom back for good. She did not want to be playing tug-o-war with Michael when things got heated.

Bella did not know if her command would actually work, but she spoke with each of them after her suggestion was planted. "I hope you will choose not to fight for Michael when they come for me."

Edward searched for each man's thoughts after she had spoken to them all. He wanted to see how receptive they were, but it was difficult to gauge. There was something he was not seeing. It was almost as if Michael had something over them beyond his manipulations. Love perhaps? Did they actually care for him? Edward let the thought drop in favor of discussing a few things with Emmett's old God, Chester.

Edward and Emmett quizzed him while they waited for Jacob to return or for Bella to signal Michael's preparations for the divulged attack. The three of them roamed the yellow hall in a hospital gowns that left their backsides exposed to the institutional chill.

They asked Chester first about the attic and he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"What do you want to know?"

"Is it heaven?" Edward asked.

"I don't know."

"Have you seen it all?" Emmett tried another tactic.

"I have seen more than anyone has dared, but no, I have not seen it all. I don't know if that's even possible."

When Edward heard the approaching footsteps from behind, he naturally assumed that it was Jacob returning. He stayed in stasis with Emmett to conclude their friendly interrogation of Emmett's imagination ambassador.

Jacob was still in the washroom, looking into the mirror. The humming lights poured into his eyes as he brushed dark strands of hair back from his face. He had stopped humming along with the lights; it was unfortunate.

He wondered if he was looking into the face of a good father. Jacob did not understand how much he wanted to be a parent until he discovered the life growing within Rosalie. Clammy panic crept in from time to time and made him weak with worry.

Every waking moment, which to Jacob was every moment, would be spent caring for his family. He even heard the fluttering of his developing baby's heartbeat everywhere he went.

Just thinking about it while he looked into his own reflection brought the delicate sound pressing into his ears; a tender motor purring new life and growing larger and stronger each day. He could even hear tiny differences in the pitch of that heartbeat as it strengthened.

He used Rosalie's strong steady heartbeat as a comparison to verify that the baby was indeed revving up. Jacob seemed to hear those intertwined heartbeats everywhere. He especially liked to listen to them at night when both were asleep but even all the way across town, he swore that he could hear their rhythms.

Jacob watched his own eyes widen in the mirror.

* * *

After a few moments adjusting to the light in the unfamiliar lobby, Rosalie spotted the doors to the auditorium and made her way through the cool and still air.

She first entered the little room that acted as a light lock for the main hall and did not like the smell. It was an earthen, wet smell and in the dark space she wrinkled up her nose.

When she entered the theatre, she discovered Edward and Emmett sitting near the stage. They reminded her of life size puppets that had been discarded into the empty seats; their heads were leaning in towards each other, making them look like brother birds in a very large nest.

Rosalie was looking right at them when an apparition appeared in the aisle below her. It was Michael. He arrived without so much as a ripple in the air and began walking down the row behind them.

Rosalie had always been a bit of a church mouse, moving silently with little effort, but she knew from her brother that any one of the three of them could notice her pounding heartbeat at any moment. She was in the row behind Michael by the time the old man had positioned himself behind the two sleeping boys and she watched in horror as he reached behind his back, slowly pulling out a long dagger.

Rosalie was at her most vulnerable in that moment. She was off to the side of Michael and only slightly behind him. He was moving with care, which gave her the only chance she would have to stop him.

Michael had pulled his blade out very slowly, knowing that nothing woke an enemy faster than the sound of sliding steel. Once he had cleared the sheath at the small of his back, Michael did not hesitate. He moved to plunge the blade into the back of Edward's neck, but suddenly he felt the weapon being plucked from his unsuspecting hand.

Michael didn't even have time to turn around.

Rosalie thrust the weapon, which looked to her like a miniature great sword, into Michael's back and the room filled with a roar that soon turned into a gargle.

Edward and Emmett shot to their feet and turned around to see Michael. Blood poured from his mouth and splattered on the five inches of steel sticking out of his chest.

Hanging from the tip of the crimson dagger point was a key, its broken chain hanging down in uneven parts and still swinging back and forth.

Edward reached out for the treasure and pulled it from the away just as Michael and the blade inside him dissolved into murky air that left only his sister standing before him.

She looked angry that Michael had gotten away.

"Rosalie!" Jacob called her name before Edward could. He stood at the top of the aisle and had witnessed the heroic act.

Michael materialized in the aisle below Jacob, he was wispy and Jacob could clearly see the stage behind him. They had gotten their only chance to get him alone and Rosalie did a fine job of saving her brother and friend, but a vampire would survive such a wound.

Michael still had the dagger in his hand and charged with it despite his transparent state. Jacob waited, intending to sidestep the apparition just in case he fully materialized in an attempt to turn insult into injury.

Jacob sensed somehow that Michael would leave if given the chance and since he could cause the man no further harm nor stop him anyway, he stepped into one of the middle rows and watched as the smoky form passed.

Michael had a red blood beard clinging to his chin and neck that swirled like the rest of him. Jacob got a good look at it when Michael turned to give a loathsome look to Rosalie.

Michael could not talk when he was in that form and much to his horror, Jacob found that he could identify with the misty man sailing by.

Jacob envied Michael in that moment; he at least kept his human face and could therefore communicate many more recognizable emotions than a wolf could ever hope to.

_I suppose I could always growl_, Jacob thought as the lobby reported a silent exit and the room grew still once more.

"Rosalie." He didn't know what else to say. Her attack was the most foolish, brave, senseless, selfless, reckless, heroic thing he had ever seen and he was as angry as Hell and as proud as Heaven.

"What are you even doing here?"

"Alice drew a picture of you in the tunnel," she replied. Her next words spilled from trembling lips. "You were dead."

Edward had to warn Bella, so he and Emmett sat back down in order to grant him access to the stethoscope while Jacob rushed to embrace Rosalie.

"Do you have to go down into the tunnel?" Her question was smeared with hopelessness.

"They need me," he answered. It was always his answer and Rosalie was counting on it because when he asked her what she was thinking by attacking a vampire she responded. "They needed me."

"Touché, Little Spoon." Jacob shook his head slowly.

The couple enjoyed a prolonged embrace, one that neither had expected a short time before when they had stood above Manhattan in the top of their gothic tower. In those moments they had felt like the world was spread out before them, but in the dark and musty Brooklyn auditorium the fragility of life, especially new life, was a sobering slap to the senses.

Jacob placed both of his hands on her belly and the heat was as strong as if she had been standing near a hot stove.

Edward and Emmett were back to looking like marionettes. Jacob regarded them before checking his pocket watch.

"Still a few minutes till sunset," Jacob informed Rosalie. "And then there's the time it takes for the rest of them to meet us here."

"But Michael knows where we are now."

"He has a much better position to defend. He won't give it up."

"It's too bad," Rosalie quirked her cheek. "He's about the most impatient bastard I've ever met."

Jacob's face sprang to life, but his familiar booming laugh fell flat in the heavy air.

"Actually, I was just talking to him on the street…"

"That's where I saw you," Rosalie confirmed. "In the middle of Atlantic Avenue."

"Right, well, I got him all worked up about how the book was just across the street in Riley's apartment. My plan was to stall the attack to make him squirm and then see if he would risk a quick sneak to go look for it, thinking we had changed our minds."

"Separate him from his herd."

"Exactly. But you already did that. I doubt that he'll be going out alone again tonight."

"I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean to interfere…"

"Don't be sorry." Jacob waved his hands like he was fanning away the very thought of it. "I wasn't complaining. Actually, I'm glad we can finally stop stalling and get to the fighting already."

Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Don't give me that look," Jacob's eyebrows were stern enforcers. "You drew first blood in this one."

Rosalie grinned evilly. "Yes I did…and now you want me to go home don't you?"

Jacob winked. "Well, your work IS done. You saved your brother and you got in the first shot."

She kissed his cheek but instead of pulling away when she was done, Rosalie threw herself into Jacob's arms. He could feel that her breaths were heavy but a little shaky. "Come home safe."

"I wouldn't dream of anything else."

Rosalie walked over to her listing brother and twirled his hair. As a child, he had unruly curls that he allowed his sister to wrap around all sorts of household items. Her father's pencils were a favorite choice of hers, but one time she had gotten a hold of Edward in the kitchen and he ended up with a head full of wooden spoons.

"I'm leaving now, Edward," Rosalie whispered. "Good luck."

She wondered if he heard her like in a dream, or like a voice on the other end of a telephone while he was conked out.

After leaving the theatre, Rosalie found a cab right away and had a frightfully uneventful ride across the twilight threatened Brooklyn Bridge. She looked up the whole time as she crossed the structure and felt like a clever dragonfly navigating the trench of two spider webs.

The last thought Edward picked up from his sister was when she was halfway across the bridge.

She was remembering how it was bad luck to say good luck in a theatre.

* * *

Bella had been waiting for Michael to come back down into the tunnel since Edward had warned her that he and Jacob had ended their conversation on the street, but he never came down.

She was feeling fantastic because her conversations with Michael's men had gone so smoothly. Many of them looked as if the weight of the world had been removed from their shoulders.

It was still a risky plan giving them all their complete freedom like that when she could have just as easily told them all to swim to China, but there was a certain divinity in what she had done and Bella had to trust that it would be considered by the men who benefitted from her graciousness.

She was glad to have any time to make at least one more attempt to escape from her chain, but had Bella no way of knowing when Michael was going to return.

Realizing that it did not matter much anymore, Bella turned her whole body into a shifting and shimmering spectacle. But she was solid at the core and could not pull herself through her restraints, no matter how hard she concentrated or how hard she yanked.

The vampires around her buzzed with the excitement of knowing they could no longer be controlled by Michael. They all remembered the time when they had just arrived in New York and he had kept them under his thumb.

When Riley had left with the book, Michael quickly fell back into his old ways and those he had brought to the tunnel had once more been manipulated like marionettes.

Edward's voice cut through her effort to free herself with urgency. "Bella! Michael was here! He followed Jacob into the theatre, but Rosalie pierced him through the heart with his own dagger."

Only seconds later, Bella saw the unbelievable for herself. Michael drifted to the floor like a dried and overbalanced leaf. His breathing was labored, but his eyes were keen. He looked at Bella and his blood stained lower face made it appear as though he was silently screaming at her.

"What is the meaning of this?" One of the vampires close to Bella grabbed her by the arm. "You didn't say they would ambush him outside."

"Michael was about to stab two men in the back," Bella argued.

"I'm the one who was stabbed in the back." Michael's voice was bubbly with liquid anguish. He looked like a helpless old man who could barely stand.

Michael had known that Bella was communicating with her friends as soon as Jacob mentioned that he had hit his prisoner, but Bella had just confirmed it.

He stood with great effort then began lurching toward her. His dagger was still wet with his blood.

"Tell your dear love goodbye," he wheezed as his eyes danced.

Edward's eyes flew open and he spun around to look up at Rosalie and Jacob.

"There's no time…"

That was all he got out before he was gone.

The last time Edward had run up the aisle of a theatre with the intention of going out into the sun was in Paris well over a year before. He had come to understand many things since then, but had moved his family across an ocean only to end up in the same hopeless position.

This time however, he was not going to run into Jacob at the door. Jacob had been sitting behind Edward and had probably not even comprehended that he had left.

Edward was moving as fast as he ever had and that resulted in doors being exploded off their hinges when he stormed through. The tremendous crash in the auditorium was almost immediately followed by another one from the lobby that rang out with the sound of broken glass, announcing that Edward had left the building.

In addition to limiting his exposure to the dangerous rays, he hoped that the wind produced by his speed alone would cool him as he ran through the sun.

The very nature of his gift gave him no time to second guess himself. In moments he was in the bright sunlight and listening to his eyes steam.

Edward had no choice but to close his eyes just as the manhole appeared in his sight. Even through his eyelids, Edward could feel the deadly influence of the sun. The manhole was still over a block away, but he saw that it was left open. He ran straight and hoped that nothing got in his way. Edward could not allow himself to think about what would happen if he missed his mark.

When Edward's hands started burning, he quickly shoved them into his pockets. He could do nothing about his ears. Edward was moving at close to six hundred miles per hour, but even so, he was in direct sunlight for two full seconds. He actually smelled his hair singe just before he dove head first into the open hole in the street.

"Go help my brother." Rosalie's voice slapped them both into action.

"What are you doing back?" Jacob sounded more amused than angry.

Rosalie held up a round box tied with a string that she had set down before stalking Michael. "I forgot my hat."

She had purchased it hurriedly from a man next to the ferry on an impulse in case her father caught on quicker than he had.

She inspected it on the ride over to Brooklyn and thought it rather darling and did not want to see it lost but she was more interested in Edward.

"Now, go help him. He went down the manhole and he was smoking like a cigar!"

Jacob stopped only to peck her on the cheek before stomping on broken glass in the street outside as he followed Edward's path.

When he reached Atlantic Avenue, he could not see to the bottom of the hole as he had earlier in the day. It looked like a sandstorm down there and he wondered if Edward had something to do with it.

He decided to climb down because he did not want to risk landing on his friend, who had only gone down a moment before. He climbed fast but it felt like an eternity even to his patient soul.

Inside the theatre, Rosalie and Emmett walked up the aisle and he stopped just before entering the lobby. "You'll be able to join them any minute now." She told him as she stood guard against the collapsing sky.

"Good." Emmett stood on the gentle carpeted slope of the aisle and percolated. He had been wearing the stethoscope since Edward didn't need it to hear Bella and listened as she braced herself for a direct and deadly attack from Michael.

"I'm glad they have you on their side, Emmett."

He was touched by the compliment but knew better than to feed the naïve desires that once canvassed his thoughts. "Thank you."

They stood on either side of the light lock, each holding their respective doors open but not talking. Knowing that their friends were in danger at that very moment made any conversation almost disrespectful but Rosalie thought that the quietness was ugly and she had to talk about something.

"How is the play going?"

"Great!" Emmett was also grateful to have the mocking silence broken. "Edward has his actors all costumed and just itching for an audience. We just need to finalize some of the more technical aspects of the show."

"I can't wait to see it and I thought Sunday's write up was a real pip." Her father's habits had rubbed off on her and she had begun reading the paper more and more at breakfast. The New York Post had published a fourth page article, complete with a picture of a shipwreck on the moon.

"Thank you," Emmett smiled. "I wrote it."

"You did?"

"Yes, they actually appreciate it when you author your own press release."

"I never knew." Rosalie chuckled.

"Are you going to stay here then? To let the others know what happened?"

Rosalie choked away her chuckle. "I'm going to stay here to tell them to get down there as fast as they can." Her eyes searched the sky. "Edward and Jacob have been down there for over two minutes now…Oh Emmett. How did things go so wrong so fast?"

"Life is like being on a boat, Rosalie. You either roll with the tide or you roll around on the deck." He smiled broadly, proud of his new proverb.

Rosalie went back to chuckling as she thought about seeing Alice once more before she went under the street to fight. She envied the pixie's ability to fight with the men where she was nervous to direct traffic and could not wait to be in suspended twilight as she skipped across the Brooklyn Bridge in a cabriolet.

Emmett sensed her apprehension, and having witnessed her stick a blade through the back of the most powerful vampire in known existence, knew that she was starting to feel like light and sounds were deflating somehow. He decided to give her something else to think about. "Have you decided on a name for the baby yet?"

Rosalie looked at him with surprise. "You know about that?"

Emmett shrugged. "Was it a secret? Your mother talks about little else."

Rosalie grinned while slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No, it wasn't a secret but…"

"But you know how I've always felt about you," he supplied. "And you wanted to protect my feelings."

Rosalie all but stammered.

"I am very happy for you and Jacob and I will be the first to toast you both at your wedding."

"That means a lot to me, Emmett. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"We don't have a name yet. We thought it would be easy to come up with one, but it's proving difficult."

"Well, you have time."

"We have seven months but I bet the time is going to fly by."

"You'll think of something. You could even choose something from _The Tempest_."

Rosalie looked at him in a way that suggested that he must have been joking and it made him laugh and start suggesting names. "There's Alonso, Prospero, Sebastian, I like that one…"

"I don't think so, Emmett."

"…Gonzalo, now that's a good one! Francisco, Ferdinand…"

"What if it's a girl?" She decided to play along.

"Well, there you have limited choices, but fine ones…There's Miranda, of course…Ariel, although that's the name of a male pixie, I rather like it for a girl…"

"Alright, alright." Rosalie laughed as she walked all the way outside and looked west to check on the sun's stubborn progress. "I think it's safe now," she called. "But I don't know for sure."

Emmett was standing next to her in a rustle of wind. "It's fine." The sun was indeed gone for the day. He could already smell its absence in the air.

"Go." Rosalie pushed him forward. "We'll all dance in the garden when you get home."

With that, Emmett was running like a fox and thinking about all his friends celebrating on their rooftop wilderness.

He knew that Alice had just purchased a phonograph with several sets of heavy grooved discs and that according to Jasper, dusted off on her skirts before after she put them onto the turntable.

Emmett had meant what he said to Rosalie. He could not change his feelings for the magnificent woman but he respected her and the choice she made in a partner.

Jacob was often underrated, until he met Rosalie, and Emmett knew that he deserved that love. He deserved her.

He stopped above the hole and saw through a haze of dust all the way to the bottom. It was far too high to drop from, but he noticed that there was a nice big pile of dirt for him to land on.

Emmett leapt.

_Here I __come, Edward, _he thought, and his world was suddenly dark as the very earth sped past his watering eyes.

* * *

When Michael lunged for Bella he did it with the grace of someone who had just been stabbed through the heart.

She kicked his weapon away with a fierce blow that landed mostly on his knitting wound. It was followed by a solid fist to his temple which managed to interrupt his yowling.

Michael whirled around and sank to his knees but Bella was quickly grabbed by several of the others and held.

"You said the fight would come to us!" One of them yelled as he pulled her hair and stretched her neck backwards.

He opened his mouth to address her further but a giant dust cloud erupted from the shaft.

The dust was so heavy at one point that a few of the vampires wondered if a cave in was occurring, but then a form took shape and Edward stepped forward.

His hair was smoldering and his eyes were blazing.

"Unhand that woman or be the first to die." He spoke in a voice that shook the walls.

After jumping head first into the hole, Edward wondered how he was ever going to break his fall. The rungs of the ladder were rushing by and each one issued a whooshing sound as he passed. He could feel the sheer speed on his cheeks and by the time his ears began to whistle, he knew he had to think of something fast.

Holding his hands out would surely result in breaking his arms, but landing on his head was no great trade-off either. He spread his legs against the inside walls and both his shoes popped off as his feet scraped the dirt away.

A cloud of dust preceded him, as did his shoes, making him look like a magician stepping out from a cloud of smoke.

His clothes were also still steaming, aiding the splendor of his arrival.

Edward looked over at Michael, who was guzzling blood from a clay pitcher that another vampire had given him. A slow dark stream stood out against his own dried blood as it slid down his throat in a wasted trip to his shirt collar.

His primary objective was supposed to be the scoundrel priest, but he instantly changed his mind when he saw that Michael was weakened. Instead, he issued his command to the man holding his fiancé by her long hair.

Edward paused and when there was no response added an ultimatum.

"You have one second."

A second later, Bella was released and a small object had been pressed into her left hand. Edward was standing next to her and holding the head of the offending vampire by his hair. His body fell backwards and spilled thick blood into the hungry ground.

"If you let us leave right now," Edward looked around at all of them, "we will spare your lives."

"She lied to us," one of the vampires spat. He was circling around, cutting off Edward's escape.

"She freed you!" Edward roared. "You ungrateful filth!"

Jacob dropped into the mound of soft dirt just as Edward had completed his point, and his insult.

"This is the way out gentlemen," Jacob said smiling. "And the door is closing."

Bella watched in horror as not a single taker stepped forward to leave free and clear. In defiance, several of them even stepped closer to her.

She couldn't believe it; every one of them chose Michael over her. Perhaps they did not believe that the two men before them could deliver on such a dire threat. Perhaps the very nature of hypnotizing someone to tell them that they could no longer be hypnotized was a bit too far fetched to work.

Bella was dumbfounded, so much so that it wasn't until Edward cleared his throat that she remembered the object he must have slipped her when he dispatched her assailant.

She looked down into her hand and saw a small metal key. Her heart leapt and she immediately stuck it into the lock of her shackles.

It was far too small.

Michael began laughing. "You still think this is going to be easy, boy?"

Edward looked over at him. He was pulling off his blood soaked shirt and except for the gaping wound on his back, Michael's boney frame made him look like any ordinary human being.

Edward was seized by each arm, and once again Bella was ruthlessly grabbed by the hair.

Jacob recognized it as the moment when things tipped out of their favor. He needed to make a dramatic move fast and he had only one trick up his sleeve.

With bone splitting force and a crackling sound to boot, Jacob's body exploded outward as he transformed into a wolf twice as big as any they had ever seen. Jacob's shoes were so much scrap leather on the train tracks but Jacob was already in the air.

He took one of Edward's attackers by the throat, his teeth sinking deep enough into the tissue to allow him to come free with an eight pound keepsake of the engagement.

He spit his prize directly at the man holding Bella's hair and the vampire instinctively let go of her to catch the bloody offering. He was looking down when Jacob's shadow fell across his dead friend's face.

He fought well, using the skull as a weapon and landing a few blows before Jacob caught its eye socket with a claw and ripped it from his opponent's hand.

Edward was grappling with the vampire who had been holding his other arm and was enduring strikes by a police issue billy club. He was not going to last long but Jacob watched him suddenly move towards the exit.

He was cut off but Jacob knew that he had let it happen. Edward simply didn't lose a footrace. He dragged his fellow combatant with him when he lunged for the ladder, but when another vampire stood in his path, directly under the opening, Edward hooted in victory a split second before Emmett shot down like a two hundred and fifty pound hammer.

He demolished the unsuspecting vampire, pulverizing his head with two boots that followed it all the way to the ground.

"Stop!" The command came from Michael after watching three of his army's compliment fall into a mortal embrace. "Fall back to me!"

Even Edward's anchor let go of him and seven vampires ran to the ancient vampire who had retreated to one end of the tunnel.

Jacob padded over to Edward. His tongue was waggling as much as his tail because they were also playing for more time. Edward scratched the wolf's head wondering if it was demeaning, but Jacob seemed to like it.

He then went over to Bella and sniffed the lock at her ankle.

"You thought you had the key didn't you?" Michael's pale voice lobbed over his troops like a Molotov cocktail.

"We don't need a key, Michael." Edward's voice was calm.

Michael snorted but he did not take his eyes off of Jacob, who paced back and forth with his nose down and his eyes wicked.

"Fight together." Michael hissed at his men.

The group of vampires began moving in on the three of them.

Bella stood up. She was determined to make it the four of them.

* * *

Moments before sunset, the group at the Theatre of the Heart was talking about how nice it would have been to have the carriage with sun proof windows. They could have cut a hole in the bottom of the coach and jumped down into the tunnel for a daytime surprise.

They were gathered in the green room where they could observe the cabs they had called for begin to pull up. Jasper led the way out through the front doors with one final instruction.

"Hit first and hit hard."

He got into a cab with Alice, Lawrence and Boston. Sam, Sean and August rode in another cab, while Walter, Yan and Dillon took the third carriage.

They rode away from the blood red sky that marked the business end of magic hour. The Brooklyn Bridge was already lit up and its white globes of light made it appear as though a giant string of pearls was hovering above each side of the street.

The drivers were paid upfront and very well, in order to make haste to downtown Brooklyn.

They did not disappoint. Horses huffed and wooden wheels whisked the carriages at speeds that earned many observations from pedestrians and horsemen alike. The bridge was where they went the fastest and Alice felt like she was flying.

The drivers already had their destination instructions, but a few blocks before they arrived at the theatre Jasper spotted Rosalie in the street waving them down.

"The fight has begun!" she shouted to them. "Go to Atlantic Avenue and help!"

Rosalie had positioned herself so she could point the two blocks to the open manhole cover. She figured that intercepting the group at that point on their way to the rendezvous would save precious minutes.

She was absolutely right and three cabs emptied in a blur of waistcoats and dollar bills. Walter reached the manhole first and climbed down as fast as the pebble he had kicked in with him.

Jasper was the next one down, Alice at his side immediately after, her new boots already dirty. They were equipped with steel spurs that she intended to break in on the face of one of the swine in the tunnel with them.

_Save one for me__, Edward._

Alice projected the thought, knowing he would already be aware of their arrival. She went down almost on top of Jasper and when he jumped with fifty feet to go she gave him a few seconds until she followed.

Boston was next and he almost got stuck. Only Edward's widening of the inner wall kept that from occurring. He dropped in with a commanding thud and the first thing she saw was Bella smiling broadly over at the new arrivals.

Michael was standing behind a group of vampires and cursing ferociously as Sam dropped in next to him and moved aside for Yan, who ran straight up the rounded wall, beheading a wide eyed vampire from above with a silver wire.

Yan had not seen what Boston had. The vampires were in retreat. The bodies, not to mention the muttering heads of the fallen suggested that Edward, Jacob and Emmett had given their group the advantage in numbers.

By the time everyone was in the tunnel, Michael was crying tears of rage and cowering behind a half dozen loyal vampires. Edward could hear his putrid mind fixate on Rosalie's devastating hit to him.

Michael would not be able to fight them off and he knew it.

Worst of all, he did not have the strength to dematerialize.

_But they don't know that._ He thought to himself.

Edward did not smile, but inside he was at peace.

Michael would not leave this tunnel alive.

_You can say that again. _Bella's voice was as clear as a ship's bell in his mind.

Edward was watching friendly vampires drop into the tunnel like a rush of storm water and knew that the day was theirs as soon as he heard Michael in despair.

They were all at one end of the tunnel, listening to their leader blame God and Rosalie Cullen for his fevered fate yet they scowled at the intruders and held their weapons out.

Two of those weapons were guns.

Great big pistols held by steady hands and they were both pointed at Bella.

"You will never get her alive!" Michael's voice was cracked with rage and Edward heard the order before he opened his mouth to speak.

_Kill her._

Edward ran for the first gun, but the watchful vampire holding it had seen Edward in action already. He jumped back as soon as the speedy leader and lover boy twitched.

He was not the only one who could move fast.

Edward flew past him and Michael's words found life. They sounded even more unbelievable when spoken aloud.

"Kill her!"

Edward was fortunate enough to collide with the second man carrying a gun and slapped it to the ground with a savage blow that bent the holder's hand sideways at an ugly angle.

He heard the gun fire behind him.

Six shots were fired but Bella's screaming ceased after the first one.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I am taking my sweet time with the next chapter and don't yet know if it will be ready by July 2nd, but I will be posting another episode of Cockeyed Optimist that day if that interests you. That episode will be called: The Air Show.**

**Cheers to the United Kingdom who has soundly claimed the second spot on my list of countries that read Brutte Parole. (The USA decimates in terms of numbers but the rest are in a real pony race that has Canada and Germany hitting No. 2 in past weeks).**

**Thank you no matter where you live and I admire all of you who are reading English as a second language.**

**MOG**


	21. Chapter 21: Chains of Love

**Disclaimer: (why am I way over here?)**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Twilight owns the rest of us.**

**This Chapter contains moments of graphic violence (mostly against bad guys but consider yourself warned.)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One:**

**Chains of Love**

In the abandoned rail tunnel underneath the streets of Brooklyn, the gunshots resonated like cannon blasts and their explosive echoes chased one another out of the chamber.

Edward whirled around, expecting to see a bloody Bella. Instead, he saw August standing in front of her, his arms raised in the air and holding a horseshoe in each hand.

At the Theatre of the Heart, August had impressed everyone with his ability to catch dozens of coins right out of the air but he did not believe there could be any practical use for his ability. He had shared his shortcomings with Alice one day and it was she who suggested that he ask Jacob for a pair of horseshoes. Alice reasoned that August could swat bullets away like a baseball player swinging at limp pitches.

August did acquire the horseshoes but no one had been willing to shoot at him, so he kept the notoriously lucky tokens in his back pockets, waiting for the opportunity to present itself.

When he saw the guns aimed at Bella, he sprang into action along with Edward and was in perfect position by the time the first shot came flying in.

He easily swatted all the hot metal away in seconds and when the gun fired dry, August impulsively decided to throw one of his horseshoes at the shooter.

It flipped twice in the air and struck home with devastating results. The iron punctured both the gunman's eyes and smashed into his face with such force that only the curve of the U was visible, covering the bridge of the gunman's nose.

He staggered around yowling in pain until Lawrence ran up with a short handled executioner's axe and put it to work. It sliced through the neck of the blinded brute and his anguished wails ceased abruptly.

Edward turned back to grapple with the man whose wrist he had already broken and it only took that moment for the battle to rage into full swing.

Yan raced back up the curved walls. His gravity defying gift was just as useful as Jasper had predicted and incredibly difficult to defend against. Walter used his speed and immediately appeared behind the whole group, even Michael.

Jasper and Alice ran for the same man that Boston had already targeted and the three met with wicked results.

Edward's victim was prepared for his attack and punched his jaw with a brass knuckled hand. All thoughts in the tunnel, including his own, fell away as Edward fell to the ground.

Yan was grabbed by the hair and savagely ripped to the ground.

Michael had turned on Walter and began whispering suggestions to him.

Jacob observed that Yan was being surrounded by several others and used his powerful legs to jump right in front of the brutal kicks. He snapped at Yan's attackers with powerful fangs and swiping at them with claws that could have easily taken their throats out.

The group of vampires kept their distance, they fought smart. Jacob was disappointed.

Michael's remaining men were also his most skilled fighters and against newcomers like Dillon, they fared well. In the end, he was taken down by a feint to one side and a strike from the other. It was an old trick but nevertheless it claimed the life of a man who fought bravely for one woman's freedom.

Edward's attacker abandoned his limp victim and lunged for Emmett. He knew that the big man would be expecting a punch so he tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground.

Emmett hit his head on the train rail and saw stars but remained conscious.

He kicked his assailant away in self-defense and sent him reeling into the waiting arms of Alice and Jasper, who were working well as a team and claimed their second victim of the fight.

For a time, it was difficult to know which way the battle was going. Edward was down, Yan was down, Dillon was dead, and Emmett was getting back up to his feet. Although they had only one kill, Michael's diminished men were gaining momentum.

Sam had made his way over to Bella and started working his keys into her lock but found no success. He called to Sean, who was trying to sneak his way over to the dropped gun. Sean had the other half of the keys and altered his course to help when he saw Sam needed them.

Sean could have used his telekinesis to send his keys through the air to Sam, but he also noticed that Boston could use a hand. During the early stages of the battle, the big guy had largely been avoided because no one wanted to fight the biggest vampire in the tunnel but, eventually, Boston was struck from behind. He ended up struggling with pair of vampires who were laughing at their short lived victory. Lawrence evened the odds by engaging one of the two attackers and Boston enjoyed great success once he got the other man to the ground.

Sean arrived just in time to slice through the throat of Boston's downed man with a kukri knife that he kept at his side like a gunslinger's pistol. Boston nodded his appreciation as he turned to find another fight to join. Sean continued on to Bella and Sam to try the last of their keys.

Michael had spent the entire time talking to Walter and eventually released him with a flick of his hand. Walter ran straight to the tunnel's ladder, where he scrambled up like a bug. Alice saw it and knew Edward was the only one fast enough to catch him, but she had to give it a try.

She was halfway up herself before Jasper even knew she was gone.

With his orders given and Walter's mission underway, Michael immediately began to move closer to Bella and the two key jingling vampires who had their backs turned to him.

Jacob watched Michael's progress with the stalking eyes of a wolf and pounced before the old vampire could get too close.

Michael looked at Jacob with an expression that might have been regret as he drew his dagger, still decorated with his own drying blood.

"Your girl almost got me."

Jacob growled.

"Well, she's dead now anyway," Michael sneered. "She and anyone else hiding in that theatre she built."

Michael knew that Jacob would receive assistance at any moment and made a movement as if to attack Bella. He was actually trying to escape and made a last minute run for the exit, but Jacob wisely predicted the cowardly maneuver.

Wolf and beast clashed between the rails.

Jacob snapped at Michael in a show of ferocity that shook the air but Michael was able to reach out and grab Jacob's powerful jaws in a fluid motion. He twisted savagely and Jacob rolled with the action in order to save himself broken bones.

When Jacob landed heavily further down the tracks, he understood that Michael was much stronger than he was, even with a stab wound. That made him by far the most dangerous man in the subway and there was nothing between Michael and Bella but two deputized locksmiths who were consumed by their task.

Edward stirred on the ground.

Michael noticed the slight movement of Bella's lover and paused to regard the prone leader and considered attacking Edward while he had the upper hand. Michael changed his mind and tried once more to concentrate his energy long enough to dissolve into the walls but his chest was an ocean of white hot pain and the intensity anchored him in his corporeal form.

Revenge became his widow as he missed his last chance to leave. He was rooted in place, imagining a swift death for Edward.

Jacob drew in the distance between them like a fishing line and was upon Michael before he could move again. They both went to the ground in a flurry of fur and fists.

Michael closed his hands around Jacob's throat just as Sam whooped in triumph.

Bella's shackles fell to the ground with a satisfying clank.

She had been fixated on Edward since he had fallen to the ground and as soon as Sam had liberated her, she ran to him blindly.

And she ran right past Michael.

Michael had been choking the life out of the wolf, magic blood be dammed; but when he saw Bella coming, Michael took the opportunity to cease his suffocation attempts long enough to reach out for her with hands like talons.

Jacob acted fast, despite his throbbing throat and burning lungs. He changed back into human form in order to grab and hold Michael better. He squeezed his frail foe in a bear hug and kept him from so much as brushing Bella's clothes.

Michael kicked and cursed at Jacob's success.

Edward's senses were muffled as though he were underwater, but when he felt familiar, feminine hands cradle the back of his head it all swam back into focus. His eyes told him that Bella was by his side and his heart leapt.

She was free.

"Edward? Can you hear me?" Her voice was achingly sweet.

He nodded his head and began to rise to his feet. They were still in the middle of a fight after all and he knew it.

Half of Michael's remaining men were dead and the few left were masterful fighters. They had wounded Lawrence and August.

"We need to help them," Edward said to Bella, knowing that she was a strong fighter.

_Edward!_ Jacob's thought was a ship's bell in Edward's brain.

_Edward! T__he metal box on the wall next to you! Flip the switch!_

Edward looked to his left and immediately saw that on the wall next to him was a metal cabinet. It was similar to the metal switches he had used near his barnyard to stifle the overwhelming sound of intruding thoughts. But this box was bigger, with two thick cables running down into it from the ceiling.

He did not question Jacob's urgent plea, stepped over to the box and pushed the flat handle up.

Immediately the room filled with an electric hum and the charge that filled the air tugged at everyone's hair.

On the tracks, Jacob began to silently twitch with a determined scowl on his face. He had recognized the experimental rail system for what it was and had even read about the German scientist who suggested a system that carried an electrical current directly to the train through a third rail.

Jacob was lying right on top of it and he never unlocked his hold on Michael, who had begun squealing and smoking.

Jacob could feel Michael's superior strength even through the haze of blue pain that bloomed in his muscles, so he wrapped his legs around the struggling priest with every ounce of strength he had left to condemn them both to the same fate.

* * *

As soon as Alice climbed out of the manhole she caught sight of Walter.

He had not known that he was followed and was obviously not in a hurry as he strolled toward the East River like he was attending a picnic. She even heard him whistling a tune.

Walter did not hail any of the cabs that clopped past him as he neared the Brooklyn Bridge, opting instead to cross it on foot. Alice kept a deep distance between them.

Still, all he had to do was look back once and he would instantly recognize her. Alice decided that if it came to that, she would tackle Walter off the bridge and take the fight to the river.

Her tactic was simple; she was hoping to detain Walter until Bella could convince him to ignore whatever it was Michael had told him to do.

But she would kill him if given no other choice.

Alice ached to know what was happening with her friends below Atlantic Avenue and taking a pleasantly paced walk to Manhattan was an exercise in torture.

Walter may not have been moving fast, but Alice thought that he was almost marching. His strides were not like his usual movements and Alice wondered where he was headed. She had no reason to suspect that he was going to the theatre because she still had no idea that Rosalie had played a damaging part in Michael's struggles that evening and would be one of his targets.

As soon as Walter turned down 8th Street, however, Alice knew that the theatre was his likely destination and understood that nothing good would come from letting him arrive there.

She only had a dozen blocks to come up with a plan and decided to take to the rooftops in order to cut him off.

Alice made her move near a shoe repair shop that Edward had begun taking Jasper to. She did not understand men's obsession with shoes. Women never fussed over their footwear as much as the men did. Even as a fashion designer, Alice usually chose shoes for comfort and purpose.

The two friends had even gotten Emmett paying more attention to his shoes and they each had four or five pair. It was unheard of, even for the extraordinarily wealthy, of which they were.

Alice stepped out in front of Walter just as the smell of leather wrapped the air and he was startled enough to bring his hand to his heart. The somewhat comic action was a borrowed motion he had inherited from his human grandmother and one he had held onto his whole life.

"Stop, Walter!"

Walter stopped, but his eyes kept moving.

"Where are you going?" Alice demanded.

Walter shrugged his shoulders. "Home."

"Did Michael tell you to go home?"

Walter's mouth opened slightly and then closed. His eyes were asking her for help, but she did not see the plea. "Yes."

"Right in the middle of the battle?"

"Yes." He looked over her shoulder at the tower piercing the sky like a thorn.

"To do what?"

Walter smiled. "A favor." With a wink, he was gone and Alice cursed. She should have known that he would make a run for it. She took off after him and gave it her all. Alice had to run like the city breeze just to keep him in her sights. She felt like an imbecile.

Alice hated second guessing herself and doing so angered her into revolutionary speed. She lowered her head and pumped her little arms. Every time her feet hit the pavement she pushed as hard as she could.

The world became blurry but there was also something else. There was a stillness that she perceived and it seemed as though the first eager leaves falling from the August tree branches were somehow frozen in mid air.

Walter arrived at the theatre far enough ahead of Alice that he was up the steps and lost in the shadows before she turned the corner.

The streetlights on 34th were bright but as Alice ran up the steps, she too was swallowed in a blanket of darkness broken only by the four round stained glass windows in the front doors.

She opened the one with the Eiffel tower next to a full moon.

The midnight door.

As soon as she was in the lobby, a picture entered her mind. The vision was perfectly clear like all her others, except that this time she did not have to draw it first. She grinned as she ran back outside and around to the side of the building where she could climb her way to the garden by using the window sills. It would be just as fast as the winding stairs and would put her much closer to what she was looking for.

Her vision was a snapshot of Rosalie in the rooftop garden with her parents. They were sitting on the bench facing west and Walter was camouflaged in the bushes behind them. His eyes could have been flowers but Alice knew different.

All she had to do was reach them first and she did. When Walter emerged, Alice was waiting with the big marble bishop from the chess board in her hands. She whacked Walter over the head so hard that he almost flew past the shocked trio of Cullens sitting on the swinging bench, near the edge of the roof.

They had been rocking gently under the direction of Carlisle's size nine shoe and discussing the possibility that they found the correct key. They all stood and faced the sprawled man and then the woman emerging from the brush.

"Sorry to disrupt you." Alice spoke as she inspected the motionless beneficiary of her particular chess skills.

"What's going on?" Carlisle asked the question while keeping a close eye on Walter.

"Michael sent him here." Alice grabbed Walter by the leg and dragged him behind her as she walked back down the path that led to the theatre. The three humans looked at each other and then followed.

"What for?" Rosalie inquired even though she was already sure of the answer.

"I never found out, but if Michael's involved it can't be good." Alice pulled Walter into the corner room, inside the front entryway of her own residence. She lifted a portion of the wooden floor and lowered Walter gently inside the place where Michael's vampires had once hidden from Michael among the wrapped roots of a few dozen trees.

"There are only two ways out of here," Alice explained as she opened Bella and Edward's door. She could see their floor from where she stood in the middle of the small common room. "I am going to keep an eye on him, but I suggest that you three find a place to hide just in case." From her position, Alice could also look straight out into the garden with left and right glances to monitor the suspicious houseguest.

"Hide?" Carlisle was feisty. "We most certainly will not."

"Actually, I think it's a worthy precaution," Rosalie announced. She placed a hand on Alice's shoulder. "We'll be on the platform." She turned and walked through the door behind Alice into Jacob's room and headed for the stairs.

"Do you really think we should trap ourselves up here?" Carlisle asked once his family had reached the dark room at the top of the tower.

"That vampire will instinctively go downstairs if he gets past Alice." Rosalie sounded confident and that was enough for Carlisle, but he had spotted a big spiked ball on the end of a stick sitting against the wall in Jacob's room and he went back down briefly to get it.

It felt wicked in his hand.

Esme and Rosalie were already surveying the city when Carlisle returned and it was his wife who pointed out that something in the sky was floating toward their building.

* * *

Jacob's long black hair caught fire and sizzled on the ground all around his stone face.

"Do something!" Bella screamed. She saw that Edward was frantically attempting to pull down on a frozen switch and she instinctively ran over to the writhing mass in the middle of the tunnel.

"Watch out!" Edward warned. "Don't touch the rails. And don't touch Jacob!" He did not know how many of the rails were pulsing with electricity, but he knew enough to caution against contact with the track or their friend who had become a conduit.

He had just gotten Bella back and did not want to lose her before he even got the chance to kiss her.

"What's happening to him?" Bella was frantic.

Edward looked around the tunnel, hoping to find another box that would reverse the process he had started. He was terrified by the fear that he had sent his friend on to his next adventure before Jacob would have the chance to even meet his child, and Edward wanted to stop the horrific exhibit for all their sakes.

One of Michael's three remaining vampires attacked Jasper and did some damage to his arm but Jasper took advantage of the moment and with a swift slice, got his rebuttal.

There were just two vampire foes left and Michael was still steaming in Jacob's arms.

Edward caught sight of a small box and ran to the other side of the tracks but it was frustrated to discover it was not connected to anything. He ran to another device but that switch would also have to be raised up. Edward did not want to risk sending any more electricity into the rails, but he was desperate to make something work.

He pushed up on the switch with a prayer in his heart but only a neat row of caged bulbs lit up along the ceiling. They were usually kept off during the day while the vampires slept and had not been turned on yet that evening. Three wall lights had been the only illumination during the course of the battle and the stark underground cavern transformed into a muddy throat in the rich new light.

Edward observed that Bella had begun searching for something to cut the power, dashing along one side of the tunnel to a set of boxes near her.

He also saw that Jacob and Michael had stopped moving altogether.

Edward had not heard any thoughts from either man since throwing the switch and that was his prevailing reason for doubting their survival, but seeing them completely still while lightning boiled their blood made him want to scream with guilty sorrow.

Edward lowered his head for just a moment and spotted the gun he had slapped to the ground; the one that had not yet been fired. He grabbed it and ran back to the main power box.

His father had taught him how to fire a rifle at the age of ten. Neither man was much of a sportsman but it was a valued lesson in fire arm safety. Edward leveled the weapon at the two thick wires traveling into the top of the box.

Edward fired the gun four times and plunged the room into darkness.

Two more shots rang out seconds later and the sound of the last two vampires hitting the ground told Emmett why Edward had saved his last pair of bullets.

Jasper's eyes did not need to adjust to the dark. His unique vision allowed him to see many subtle cues not visible even to the other vampires. He watched Edward place the gun on top of each of their heads and shoot straight down. The result scrambled their brains.

Edward was kind and efficient considering what the last pair deserved and he made sure that his actions counted. Neither of them even twitched again.

Jasper also watched Bella literally fly over to Jacob. Her magnetic field looked like flamingo feathers and followed her like a trail of baby ducks. He remembered thinking of Edward's description of what he saw when a single violin began playing and wondered if he was seeing something just as beautiful.

Bella peeled Michael from Jacob's clutches and cast him aside like a dead bird.

Jasper walked over to Michael and placed one of his sickles to the man's burnt wrinkled throat. When he pressed down his blade sank to the ground like it was cutting through butter.

There was no blood but the life spilled out of Michael like dew from an upturned flower.

The battle was over.

Bella was pressing down on Jacob's chest, beating on it actually, in a wild attempt to get her oldest friend's heart beating again.

She was soon replaced by Jasper, who did proper medical compressions.

Only their sharp hearing told them that his efforts were successful.

Jacob's heart shuffled back into employment. His first breath was as shallow as a canary's but he was alive. His heartbeat sped up with a flutter that might have reminded him of his unborn baby…if he had been awake.

Jasper stood up to direct the others while Bella remained on her knees over Jacob.

"_God?" _Bella half expected to hear Emmett's pretend king answer her.

"_I do not know what you have planned for Jacob Black…but he deserves to live the life he made with Rosalie…you can't take it from him now."_

Edward was fully aware that he was listening to a very private conversation between Bella and the Almighty, so he turned his attention to Jasper's instructions on how to get the wounded out.

"Bella will be the key," Jasper told Edward and Emmett. "She can lift them out safely and gently."

"She is going to need a minute," Edward replied softly.

Jasper blinked in understanding. "Of course. So will we. Yan is up and walking, but we need to get Dillon ready to travel."

Bella reached out and touched Jacob's naked chest. She had never seen him with his eyes closed for so long and it was painful to consider his absence in her life. She continued her prayer, trying not to be selfish.

"_If you decide to take him then you better not keep him waiting…He has been waiting his whole life…"_

Bella's tears hissed as they landed on Jacob's heated skin.

"…_when he gets there, give him his WINGS!"_

"He's earned them." Bella concluded her prayer aloud and stood back up. She grabbed a blanket from the nearest bed and spread it on the ground next to Jacob. When Emmett asked if he could assist, she politely declined.

Bella lifted Jacob up and placed him in the center of the blanket. She then drew the four corners up until he was in a cloth pouch, just like the one she had once carried Edward home in after their night on the Eiffel tower.

"I'm taking him home," Bella declared.

"Can you come back down first to help us get Dillon out?" Jasper asked.

Bella looked around at the chaos underground, seemingly for the first time, and nodded. "Of course."

Edward followed her up the ladder to take hold of Jacob while she went back underground for Dillon.

"Now it's my turn to carry you through the streets my friend." Edward was surprised at how light Jacob felt in his arms.

Bella returned within moments and she and Edward traded patients. It was dark enough that Bella risked rising high into the sky, where she flew with Jacob to the west and home to the Theatre of the Heart.

Edward heard her prayers resume as soon as she was off the ground, a stork with a new life to be delivered.

* * *

Bella flew straight to the rooftop garden and lowered Jacob onto the grass near the theatre door, which she saw was already open. Alice was standing just inside the threshold and smiled broadly but did not move.

"Thank God it's you, Bella! I need your help over here."

"I need Carlisle." Bella countered tersely, attempting to maintain her patience. She began unwrapping the blanket, but Alice already knew who would be in it.

Alice was about to call for Carlisle but the Cullens had seen Bella arrive from the upstairs windows and were already on their way down to the garden. Alice kept her post and nodded to the trio of humans as they passed her.

"We still have a threat here," Alice reminded them.

"I'll get her for you," Rosalie answered. She was the last one down from the tower and she walked slowly, like she was in a trance. Alice had a feeling that she knew who was in the blanket as well.

Carlisle approached the naked unconscious man quickly but stopped abruptly when he got close. Jacob's hair was gone and his skin was singed black in places. He did not appear to be breathing.

Rosalie went right to him. She kneeled on either side of his smooth head and cradled it in surprisingly steady hands. When she looked up at her father, he was removing his jacket.

"Someone get my bag please," he requested.

Esme dashed away. She knew right where he had set it down in the library.

After his old bag had been destroyed in the train crash, Carlisle purchased all new equipment even though he no longer practiced medicine. He simply felt reassured having it around.

Carlisle knelt and lowered his face next to Jacob's. He waited patiently to feel even a feather breath on his cheek. He then placed his hand over his daughter's where it rested on Jacob's cheek. "What happened to him?"

"He was electrocuted." Bella spoke the words and they felt heavy. She did not think she could ever say them again.

Carlisle felt what might have been breath but being outside in the open air was deceiving. He moved his head to Jacob's chest and nodded approvingly. Then he gingerly opened one of Jacob's eyelids.

"Help me turn him over."

Rosalie assisted her father so they could see what looked like the external evidence of his injury. Jacob's back was divided by a shiny black line of damaged skin.

Carlisle studied his patient's wounds with a seasoned eye while his daughter gasped. It was the most horrendous, heart-wrenching moment she had experienced since the day she had helped her mother to clean up her brother's blood in their old Paris parlor.

"This will heal," Carlisle diagnosed, seeing the look of terror on his little girl's face. "I don't know if any of his organs were damaged, but in time this wound will become a tiny pink wrinkle along his back."

"Why won't he wake up?" Rosalie asked the question that bothered the entire group.

Carlisle shrugged his shoulders and rolled Jacob back over. His face was peaceful, restful. "For all we know, he's a heavy sleeper."

Rosalie leaned forward and surprised her father when she slapped Jacob hard enough to rock his head to one side.

His eyes remained closed.

"Shit!"

Rosalie kissed her hand and touched his cheek in silent apology before straightening back up with questioning eyes.

Esme returned with the doctor's bag and Alice cleared her throat loudly as she passed by. Carlisle reached for his stethoscope and placed it in the middle of the still man's chest. He listened to Jacob's heartbeat for a long time before moving on to each lung and then down to his stomach. He moved the instrument around slowly as if he were a painter using deliberate strokes.

Carlisle did a full examination and remained puzzled. "I don't have a lot of experience with these types of injuries, but usually there is a point on the body where the electricity exits.

A blown calf muscle or sometimes an area near the foot…Jacob has none of that."

"He was holding onto Michael," Bella offered. "Does that make any difference?"

Carlisle nodded. "Michael's dead then?" He asked the question almost casually.

Bella looked at Jacob with sorrow and concern. "Yes, he is. But at what price?"

In that moment, Rosalie found Bella's eyes and the two women spontaneously embraced in strength and support of one another. They held on to each other as sisters and Bella could smell Jacob in Rosalie's hair.

Esme knelt down beside Carlisle, holding a doctor's journal she had spotted in the bag. She wrote down Carlisle's observations and passed instruments to him when requested.

Carlisle spent a great deal of time at Jacob's feet, testing his reflexes.

"Excuse me," Alice interjected after she felt she had given Bella and Rosalie sufficient hugging allowance.

"Oh, right." Rosalie pulled back and held Bella at arm's length to give her the important message. "Alice has Walter trapped underneath the garden. Michael sent him here to do something."

Bella took another long look at Jacob before she walked over to Alice. "You have Walter down there?"

"Yes, she does." A muffled male voice presented itself meekly through the floor in Alice's doorway.

"What are you ordered to do?" Bella asked him.

There was no answer.

"Walter?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Is this something you want to do? Or is it something Michael commanded you to do?"

"What's the difference?"

Bella sighed. "Walter, I can help you." Despite her earlier failure, she decided to give him the same courtesy she had given Michael's men. "I can talk to you face to face and then you will only want to help your friends."

"I am helping my friend. Michael gave me everything, I owe it to him."

"Michael's dead."

No answer.

"Do you still want to help him? Jacob electrocuted him and Jasper lopped his head off like the snake that he was."

"You're lying."

Alice stomped on the floor. "Listen. We're coming down there to TALK…but if you try anything we will end this conversation abruptly." She stomped on the last word for extra emphasis.

Alice leaned into Bella's ear. "We each take a door and go in at the same time. He's fast, so get in and close the door behind you. We'll figure it out from there."

Bella nodded. "We're coming down," she called out. "Are you going to let us help you?"

No answer.

They went in.

The rich smell of earth greeted them but they did not see Walter. They went down quickly and closed the doors.

"Walter?" Alice did not mean to sound scared but her voice betrayed her.

Outside in the garden a tree popped out of the ground next to Jacob. It shot up like the cork of a wine bottle and landed on its side smashing the grass with the canvas sack still wrapped around and feeding the roots.

Walter's head appeared from the neat hole left in the false ground.

Bella and Alice saw him bathed in starlight as soon as he pushed the tree out of the ground, but they would have to crawl fifty feet to reach him and Walter was already lifting himself out of the hole.

When Carlisle had replaced his doctors bag and its contents, he also purchased a stout looking blunderbuss pistol to replace the one Emmett had lent him.

"Keep it," Emmett had told him. "You might have to put some poor bastard out of his misery."

Carlisle had tucked the weapon back into the bag, where it had migrated to the bottom with the other heavy instruments.

He got it out just in time to run up between his daughter and her attacker and pulled the trigger with determination.

The result was furious and final. Walter had no chance and blew apart like a pile of leaves.

Edward was just running into the lobby below them, carrying August over his shoulder when he heard the shot. He took the painfully slow elevator up to the garden where he knew everyone would be. When he arrived on the roof, he set August down next to Jacob.

He looked over at Walter and frowned, it could have been a lot worse.

"Jasper says he's stable," Edward told his father. "But he wants you to look at his leg. How is Jacob?"

Carlisle looked over at their friend. "I really don't know what to make of it but I would guess that he's stable too."

Bella ran to Edward and the two embraced. She breathed in his scent; she had forgotten how it intoxicated her. She allowed herself to be nestled in his strong arms and he put his chin down so his lips could touch her head.

Bella stepped away from Edward for the only reason she could ever be taken out of his arms.

"What can you do for Jacob?" she asked. Her eyes were wells of desperate seeking.

Carlisle shrugged his shoulders. "I can put some clothes on him."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Thanks to those of you who have been reading Cockeyed Optimist. It is a very different story than Bella Voce and Brutte Parole, and as many of you know, much more personal. It will likely be my new FF project after this series wraps up.**

**I would like to recommend two stories I started this week:**

**Tunes With Tony Masen by Just4ALE. I know it's been around for a while but have only begun the thing and already I love the humor, music, mystery, and pace.**

**Inside Man by Ooza. It begins with a prison pen pal relationship which I find fascinating and quickly becomes a well crafted work.**

**I have included links to their stories back on my profile page for your convenience. Let them know I sent you, I haven't informed anyone yet that I would be vouching for stories that I myself have only just waded into.**

**These two fics have respectable followings already if you are looking for another reason to give them a try.**

**MOG**


	22. Chapter 22: Voice of Reason

**Off Center Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a pair of golf cleats he bought on eBay, thinking that they were just some sweet looking shoes.**

**(At least it's more material for "Cockeyed Optimist").**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two:**

**Voice of Reason**

Edward watched Bella's naked form glide through their moonlit bedroom and might have thought she was a gorgeous ghost if he didn't know any better.

Jacob had been moved to his own bed and the three resident doctors agreed that one of them would remain in the theatre at all times. Dr. McCarty insisted that he sleep in the top of the tower that first night, in order to better monitor Jacob's progress.

The doctors also confirmed that Bella was malnourished and encouraged her to drink her fill of pig's blood before going to bed herself.

Jasper even gave her one full bottle of his imported stock. His collection was displayed nicely on the bookshelf that Alice had allotted him. For Bella's unique circumstance, he chose a bottle filled with the blood of a four hundred year old vampire from Greece

At the time of acquisition, Jasper had been much weaker than the tyrannical swine. He warned Bella that the blood could have unexpected potency.

The blood had infused Bella with a rich energy that made her tongue tingle and her eyes swim with desire for her 'at last' lover.

She crawled across the sheets to him from the bottom of their king sized bed and made sure to brush the silky sheets with the swells of her chest. The delicious feeling only made Bella long for her Edward's confident hands.

She did not pull Edward's sheet back when she swam up to him, opting instead to kiss his neck with the thin barrier between them. Edward eagerly moved his hands to her lower back and traced his fingers along skin that was as smooth as the linen that sank between his legs as her weight pushed their bodies together.

Bella's lips found his ear and then his mouth. She kissed him with a sigh that produced tears of joy. They clung to her eyelashes until she opened her eyes, sending them on to fall onto Edward.

His eyes had been open, not willing to let Bella out of his sight even if she was in his arms, and her tears fell right into his green irises. Edward closed his eyes for a moment as if to make sure that they were properly absorbed, and when he opened them again he was smiling.

"I'm glad you're home."

"I missed you so much, Edward."

"I took too long. I'm sorry."

She silenced his apology with a kiss. "I'm here now."

Bella sat up, straddling him and running her hands along the sheet covering his chest. She then gripped the hard shaft lifting up the silky linen. As she squeezed him, Bella watched his reaction.

She slowly began exposing his body to her eager eyes and where her eyes went her mouth quickly followed. She placed her lips on his chest and kissed Edward gently before resting her head against his skin.

She vividly remembered his heartbeat.

There were no regrets, having him as her forever lover was much better than having him warm for the splinter of time that they would have shared had he remained human.

Edward felt her satin skin caress his hard flesh as she slid down his body until he was cradled between her breasts.

Bella lowered her head, obstructing his view but then he felt the most magnificent wetness and pressure. Suction envelope the top half of his mass and the sensation rose and fell with increasing ferocity.

Bella stopped after a time so she could swirl her tongue around as she took him in a strong grip. Her fingers did not reach her thumb, but she had a tight hold of him and began pumping her prize up and down while she watched closely.

Edward was already on the verge of exploding and was honestly concerned that she would not get her chance to enjoy him for long if she kept progressing at her current pace.

Bella smiled at him.

"Were you just thinking something to me? I didn't get it."

"I wasn't," Edward said breathlessly. "But I was about to."

"What is it, love?" Bella asked with a grin.

"It's been a long time Bella and…"

"Shh…" She knew he was going to say something along those lines. "Relax and enjoy. I'll keep your mouth busy until you catch back up."

Edward liked the sound of that, all of that, and arched his back in an effort to speed his release.

Bella responded with a vigorous pace and watched as he tensed his muscles in pleasure and marveled at the eruption of pearl satisfaction that signaled his surrender to bliss.

Bella used a cloth to gently clean her lover and then she tucked in behind him where she scratched his back lightly. Edward was dizzy but ready to reciprocate with extreme prejudice.

He turned to face Bella and after a sunken moment in her honey colored eyes, dove for her neck where his kisses raised an army of goose bumps on her arms.

Edward descended to the valley between her breasts and rested his head there, just as she had done to him earlier. It was comforting to be like that with someone; lying on her chest while he assumed the governance of the world for just a short time.

Bella absorbed his weight easily, enjoyed it actually, and wrapped her arms around his head. She held him like that until he began to slink further down her body.

When he kissed her belly she felt herself respond with a slippery invitation. He brushed her hips one by one with his lips before turning his attention to the moist and delicious fruit at the junction between her legs.

Edward began by kissing with only short and shy expeditions led by his tongue, but within minutes was filling her with his daring muscle. He loved to be so physically close to her; to be so consumed with her body that he was literally surrounded by it.

Edward would often stop his plundering to suckle the hard bud of flesh under the elegant pink hood that sheltered it.

His movements were deliberate but not forceful; strong but not painful.

Definitely not painful.

Bella stretched her arms above her head and grabbed a hold of the large redwood headboard that still held the books she had been reading before Michael abducted her.

Her belly was tight and she turned her head to the side just the way she knew Edward liked.

She squeezed until she heard the wood begin to splinter and then grabbed Edward by the hair to direct his movements. She pressed him into her and he responded by increasing his intensity and plunging his tongue deeper into her hungry velvet.

Bella was the moon, in orbit around Edward, locked into an eternal dance of precision and beauty. Waves of joy passed through her and she crested each one with an aching moan of her lover's name.

Edward's body was still feeling somewhat tender, but after having his face slick with her approval and listening to Bella climax again and again, he was hard and aching to be inside her satin clutches.

He rose to his knees, showing Bella his rigid temptation. It took her a while to open her eyes, such was her trance, but when she did, she returned his smile and flipped around onto her stomach.

Edward admired her curved white rear as she rose to her hands and knees and spread her legs for him. He entered her slowly, but that did little to dull the immense rush that stroked them both.

Bella quickly grabbed a pillow, not wanting her cries to echo in the large room. Edward looked down at the wall of his smooth stomach. Rising from the damp garden of curls was a thick branch that he drove into her with steady thrusts.

She wished he'd let himself go.

He did.

Bella hardly had time to chuckle at his attentiveness before she was thrown into a world of powerful pleasure. Edward grabbed her by one wrist when she put her arm back and tried to think a clear message to her.

"_Put your other arm back__, Bella."_

She did.

"_Good."_

Edward continued to slide in and out of her, but grabbed her by both wrists and pulled back on her arms, lifting her head and chest off the bed.

She felt like the wooden carving on the bow of a pirate ship and enjoyed feeling Edward's power when he held her like that. Her breasts swayed with the motion, as did her hair and Edward wished that he could see both better.

After spending the last several weeks chained to a wall, Bella assumed that she would dislike being held in such a restrictive manner. However, she found the experience both liberating and erotic.

He lowered her to the bed and released her arms but she kept them behind her.

"Do it again."

Edward pushed himself into her as deep as he could go and then grasped her wrists again. When he pulled and Bella rocketed to just her knees again, she felt the difference in his angle and moaned with pleasure as he clicked into place like a key in a lock.

She felt like she was flying.

Edward outdid himself on that second maneuver and did not release her until she had yelped with intense climax enough times to make her stare at the pillow below her with longing.

She wanted to grab it again and scream into its softness, but her arms were still behind her and being held by her lustful lover.

He was very feral that first night, sniffing and tasting her.

She encouraged him every step of the way.

She liked him like that.

Edward lowered her once again to the cool welcoming sheets and slowly pulled himself all the way out of her. Bella slid all the way forward so she could lay flat on her stomach for a moment before turning on her side. Edward snuggled in beside her.

His muscled forearm came close to her lips as he tucked his hand under her cheek and she kissed it with her eyes closed.

Bella felt his whole body tuck in behind hers. Edward's chest was a hard wall against her curved back and the cleft of her buttocks cradled an even harder part of him.

Their legs were intertwined and while the rest of their bodies dozed, they frequently found new configurations for their affectionate feet.

When Bella rolled towards him and onto her back, his eyes had been willing a tiny streak of filtered yet strong moonlight to slide just far enough to touch her skin. She rolled right into it and a finger on white painted a foggy stripe of the universe on her belly.

Edward kissed the spot tenderly and whispered something she didn't hear into the darling divot in the middle of her stomach.

Bella giggled and asked him to repeat himself.

"I'm not done with you yet," he repeated, his voice husky and full of need.

Bella responded by letting her legs relax and fall open.

Edward hopped between them like a fox and looked at her beautiful face as he sank into what felt to him like a sacred oasis.

He made love to his fiancé with a tender and emotional body that made her realize he was stronger than ever. He poured honest and exciting words into her ear as he moved his hands up her body, from her hips to her tangled hair.

She was becoming truly tired, Edward could tell, but when he began to show signs of a second release she was inspired into a frenzy of gyrations and even a few nips at his neck.

It pushed him over the edge and he shuddered with the force of such a fierce follow up.

The sated couple fell asleep within minutes, their foreheads together and their fingers laced.

* * *

Two days later, Jasper, Yan and even Dillon were completely healed. Jacob already had fine baby duck fuzz on top of his head and his skin had shown remarkable progress, but he remained a sleeping giant.

He remained in his bed and Rosalie saw to it that he was comfortable. Her father had explained that base functions like breathing and swallowing were good signs from Jacob and encouraged her to feed him with the same porcelain spoon that had fed both Cullen children.

Carlisle, Jasper and Emmett continued to treat Jacob as a team but there was simply nothing left for them to do but wonder.

They occupied much of their time helping Edward put the finishing touches on the set of _The Tempest_ and on the day August surrendered to September, they found themselves painting white highlights on rocks for the shipwreck scene.

"He should have been more healed by now," Jasper replied to Carlisle for the tenth time that morning.

"His heartbeat seems stronger," Carlisle offered.

"True, but his back looks worse than ever." Jasper was deeply worried about Jacob. He spent much of his spare time encouraging Bella to tell him anything she could remember about Jacob's ability to heal. He shared his findings with his colleagues.

"In the early days, Bella and Jacob were living in a big river cave in Spain." Jasper sat up from his project to speak, knowing that he would fail if he attempted the two tasks at once. His paint brush was small and pointed straight up at the ceiling of the auditorium. "She said that they were having sport with crooks and kidnappers who knew of the place and kept wandering right into the lion's den."

Emmett chuckled, Jasper continued. "She said that on the few occasions where Jacob took a hit, he was fine by the next day."

"Were any of the wounds serious?" Carlisle asked.

"I quizzed her on broken bones and burns and anything else I could think of, but she said that as far as she knew he's lived a charmed life."

"Except for not sleeping," Emmett stated. He had always been fascinated with the burden of Jacob's insomnia and did not envy his continuous consciousness.

"Funny, that he's sleeping for the first time in centuries and all we want to do is wake him up," Carlisle observed as he went back to painting.

"Do you think he should be allowed to wake on his own?" Jasper asked.

"What do you mean?" Carlisle returned. "How else would he wake up?"

"Edward hasn't told you his plan." Jasper did not ask a question, he stated it as a fact.

Carlisle laughed. "No, he didn't. I usually hear things from Alice." He looked around. "Why? What does he want to do?" Carlisle turned to look up at his son, who had his foot up on the ship's rail. "What do you want to do?"

Jasper answered for him. "He says he has been inside Jacob's mind before, and Emmett here can tell you that they have wandered around his brain for hours." Jasper looked at Emmett who nodded his head.

"He knows what he's doing all right." Emmett nodded to Edward, who nodded back but otherwise remained silent.

"I don't doubt that," Carlisle remarked, still looking at Edward. "So when are you going to do it?"

Bella won't let him." Jasper answered for him again. "She thinks that he'll get lost, but he maintains that if she helped him, he'd be fine."

"What do you think, Emmett?" Carlisle asked.

"I think she doesn't want to lose both of them. Sorry, Edward."

Carlisle nodded, as did Edward.

"I am hoping to offer your combined medical blessing as proof that it will be safe," Edward finally spoke.

"She'll never be convinced that it's safe," Carlisle laughed. "But she might see that it's his best chance of recovery and worth the risk."

"It sounds like you should be the one to talk her into it," Edward suggested.

Carlisle did not respond to the comment, so Emmett cleared his throat. "How long do we have until rehearsal starts?"

"About an hour," Edward answered. "But you fellas look almost done."

"We are," Jasper said standing up. His rocks were looking good. "Did you speak with Lawrence yet?"

"Yes, I did." Edward said. "He says they went over to the house on 110th and except for being mostly empty, it looks great."

"I thought as much," Jasper replied. "They were pretty cramped here. Did they loot Riley's place?"

Emmett nodded his head and interjected. "Sam, Boston and I went over last night. We found even more than they expected."

"Most of them are leaving after Alice's party tonight," Jasper informed the group.

Carlisle looked up from his progressing rockwork. "Party? I thought she was going to wait until Jacob woke up."

"Rosalie and Bella convinced her otherwise," Edward informed him.

The three men returned to their tasks and were done well before Edward was greeting cast members in the lobby.

There was a light rehearsal since Alice and Esme kept taking cast members away to make adjustments and add little bits of detail to their already greatly detailed costumes.

The cast completed Act One with only a few stops to clarify prop placement and blocking, then took a break for tea and cake in the green room.

It was then that Carlisle got a word alone with his son. "I would be happy to talk to Bella if you'd like, Edward. Maybe she will help you contact Jacob after all."

"Thank you," Edward was relieved. "Bella is just worried because once when Jacob was driving us back from Spain, I did get lost in his mind and believe it or not, almost drowned."

"You've learned a lot since then son."

Edward nodded. "And I'll have Bella with me. We are getting much better at mentally talking back and forth."

"Well, we can try to convince her tonight after the party if you like," Carlisle said.

"AFTER the party?" Edward shook his head. "Oh no, I'm going up there as soon as we're done with Act Two."

* * *

It was the first evening of September in New York and every tree in the city had decided to grace the skyline with a frosting of apple yellow.

Bella looked east from her bedroom windows at the modern sky and took Edward's hand.

"I already spoke with Carlisle," she told him. "He believes in you."

Edward remained quiet. He literally knew what was coming and did not want to say anything to ruin it.

"I believe in you, too." Bella squeezed his hand. "So, we can give it a try but Alice says that if he's not back for her party then we're no longer invited."

Edward laughed as he took his pocket watch from his olive trousers. "That gives us five hours."

"You need to drink," Bella fussed.

"Let's take a half hour then…to talk about how we are going to work as a team and maybe to get some of the doctors up here to observe."

Bella looked profoundly grateful as Edward sat down and poured himself a glass of pig's blood from a pitcher that had in it, of all things, ice.

"Chilled?" He sniffed the glass. "And mixed with rum?"

"Emmett came up with it about fifteen minutes ago," Bella told him. "The alcohol thins the blood which he says would otherwise harden."

Edward nodded and sipped the cool libation. "It's better than I thought it would be."

"Me too," she confessed. "In fact, I've had three glasses and I better stop if I am going to be of any help to you."

Edward looked at her and thought his question.

_Bella, is the alcohol the only reason you agreed to this?_

Bella smiled with her whole face. _You're such a gentleman. No, it wasn't the rum it was you; when you said that as long as you had me to talk to, you could always find your way home._

"It's true," he spoke out loud.

Edward drank his beverage but his next two glasses were not mixed with alcohol.

He complimented her ability to hear his thoughts with no assistance from him at all and insisted that his communication with her would orient him and keep him safe.

Bella told him that she was worried she wouldn't know what to say.

Edward was mid-sip and laughed, nearly spraying blood all over her. "I doubt that."

Bella could tell that Edward was about to rise and pace the floor, debating a fourth drink but already full and anxious to get going. "Do you want me to go get Jasper and Emmett?"

Edward shook his head. "Thank you, but Jasper is already in Jacob's room, and Carlisle will be getting in the elevator any second."

Bella stood. "Can you hear Emmett?"

Edward looked at her. "You try."

"How?"

"Listen for his voice."

Bella frowned. "No, it's more like a smell or a feeling when I get close to him." She began turning slowly in a circle.

Edward thought her actions resembled that of a weather vane but did not tease her for her process. "Tell me what you are doing, Bella."

"I'm…casting nets." She said in a monotone and measured voice. "I hope I don't catch a boot."

Edward's chuckle made her blush. He thought Bella was genuinely funny and that meant as much to her as being beautiful to his evergreen eyes.

Bella froze. It was more like a radio signal and she took a moment to tune Emmett in. "I think he's in the library."

"How do you know?" Edward of course knew she was right, but was very curious about her process.

"He's very close for one thing," Bella answered as she walked to the west windows that looked over their rooftop paradise. "And he's reading, I think."

"Good job." They both walked out into the corner room and greeted Carlisle, who was stepping from the lift.

They walked into Jacob's room a moment later and Bella made the short trip down the spiral stone steps to fetch Emmett, who was indeed in the library and reading _A rebours, _or more accurately, its English translation, _Against Nature_.

"You know, Emmett, it does you no good to read a French author in English."

"This fellow…" Emmett turned the book over, keeping his finger on the page he was reading. "…Joris…Karl…Huysmans, is an exception I think. He's operating on a level that can be expressed in any language."

Bella nodded. "We're ready to begin upstairs."

Emmett shut the book and stood up. "Lead the way."

Jacob's room was large enough for the group to drag in some of the tall chairs that had been put in the corner room when Jasper, Alice and Carlisle were first phoning the theatre during their trip down south.

Esme was with Alice in her residence and they kept their door open to listen but otherwise stayed out of the way, sewing cloth food for the feast in scene in _The Tempest._

Rosalie remained where she had kept vigil, seated on the bed and holding Jacob's hand. Her brother climbed up on the other side and looked down at his friend.

"I'm coming in to check on you, Jacob. Please let me help if you need it."

Edward lay down on the bed and closed his eyes a moment before he placed his hand on Jacob's arm.

At first Edward was not sure if he was in his own mind or Jacob's because he found himself outdoors among rolling hills.

There was no farm in sight.

There was also no mountain like the one he had seen in previous visits to Jacob's mind. He then remembered that Jacob had already torn it down, he had seen it for himself once. Regardless, it was not the same place.

_**Can you hear me**__**, Bella? **_He thought.

_**I can hear you Edward, what do you see?**_

Edward thought for a moment, there was something very familiar about his surroundings.

_**I**__** think I see France**_. He was certain that he was looking at the farmlands south of Paris.

_**Do you see any houses?**_

Edward looked around. _**No.**_

_**Time to go for a walk**__, _she instructed.

Edward chose to walk to a nearby tree. As he approached, it looked like it had something scratched in the bark.

It was a trick of the eye. Edward examined the gray oak closely, but there was nothing imposed on its skin.

Edward walked down into a shallow valley that would normally be dotted with cottages but instead was pocked by vast boulders the size of castles. Edward touched one and it was very cold, it might have been an iceberg.

He shared his thoughts with Bella, who in turn told their waiting friends what was happening. Jasper suggested that Edward call out and Bella relayed the sound advice.

"Jacob! Can you hear me?"

Edward heard music.

It was also very familiar. He listened for a while but had recognized Jacob's voice at once. He was singing a song that was accompanied by another voice when he had first heard it. Edward also remembered the sound of horses walking on cobblestone and suddenly it came to him.

It was the song that Jacob sang the night he first drove the Cullen family to the Theatre of the Night. Carlisle had been riding up on the whip's bench with Jacob and had even joined in.

Edward told Bella what he was hearing, and after hearing it a few times as he walked toward what he hoped was the source, even sang it to her.

_**Last night while I was sleeping she visited my dreams**_

_**And each one was better than the last**_

_**Once, when I woke up and realized what was happening**_

_**I went right back to sleep and fast**_

Bella remembered the song, knew it from before that night on the Pont Neuf but like Edward, had only ever heard the one verse until that moment.

_**She comes to me each evening and whispers in my ear**_

_**She gives to me a little gift**** of light**_

_**Even in the middle of the day, I can hardly wait**_

_**For it to finally be night**_

Edward told Bella that he could hear guitar and mandolin and was getting closer. She had a good feeling about what he would find when he arrived.

_**Last night while I was sleeping she took me by the hand**_

_**And lead me to a clearing in my past**_

_**Now I know that I can finally say 'I am not alone'**_

_**I'm glad I fell asleep at last**_

Edward was singing along by the time he came upon a trio of men sitting next to a boulder with a fuzzy, shady side.

One man was playing guitar and one man was playing mandolin and Jacob was with them, playing some pretty rugged looking hand drums. As soon as Edward rounded the corner the music abruptly stopped and Jacob stood up.

"I was wondering when you would show up," he smiled.

Edward told Bella that he had located Jacob and instructed her to listen to their conversation in order to relay any pertinent information to the doctors at hand.

Jacob nodded at his two companions and as he stepped toward Edward and embraced his friend.

"Do you know where you are, Jacob?"

"Am I in a dream?"

"Yes."

Jacob nodded. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I," Edward laughed.

"I want to wake up, Edward, believe me, but…"

"What is it?"

Jacob's head bent down and his voice dropped in volume, "My legs don't work, do they?"

Edward had not expected the question and blinked several times before answering.

"Bella?"

"What?" Jacob was confused.

"Excuse me for a moment Jacob, I am also in contact with Bella and I was calling out to her. I think she will have some…" Edward stopped. "Just as I thought…Carlisle says that he tested your reflexes the night you were hurt, your legs are fine."

Jacob's eyes brightened and he sighed in relief. "I was sure that's what it was."

"Your legs may be fine but you haven't healed all the way yet."

"I know, but I'm ready. What do I do?"

"The way to wake up is to sink down," Edward told him as he sat down in the warm grass and motioned for Jacob to do the same. "Close your eyes and let yourself fall back into your body."

Jacob closed his eyes but nothing happened. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Just relax and give it time."

Edward again instructed Bella to ask the room for help. She told the group that Jacob was willing but unable to wake himself and they all began brainstorming of ways to help.

Jacob began humming his jig and said something that Edward found both sad and poetic.

"Just when I found a reason not to fall asleep, I am stuck in a dream without her."

"If you miss her so much, then why don't you just wake up?" Edward was kind, encouraging.

Jacob frowned, his eyes were still shut. "You might as well ask me to turn my hair green."

"You don't have any hair, Jacob."

"What?"

"It burned away."

"Well, I hope I look good with short hair."

Edward chuckled. "You will."

"But not now?"

"No, you're ghastly, but I will let you wear my hat to Alice's party if you can break free of this dream."

"It's more like a nightmare now," Jacob joked. He was not truly bothered by his hair. It was just hair after all, and it could always grow back.

Edward listened as Bella reported little suggestions from the medical crew but also that Alice saw a vision of the two of them running scared.

Jacob himself had already mentioned the word nightmare and Edward had sparked on a similar thought, but hearing that Alice had already seen them mid-sprint from danger confirmed his suspicion.

"Can I ask you a question, Jacob?" The two men were strolling along the valley floor and the purple shade was cool and refreshing.

"Go ahead."

"Did you create those two musician friends of yours?"

"I guess so. I didn't wish for them or anything. I was just singing and they walked up."

"Can you think of something that frightens you?"

"Why would I want to do something like…" Jacob froze and sniffed the air.

"That's not fair," he said. "Run!"

Jacob did not take any risks and grabbed Edward's hand like he was a child and tugged him along as a vicious forest fire sprinted down the sides of every hill around them.

It made no difference where they ran because the fire was squeezing them in its fist within seconds.

Edward screamed and sat up.

Jacob did not open his eyes.

* * *

After Edward told them what happened, silence took root in the room.

Alice and Esme had gone back into her room but were listening closely to his words. Esme in particular was curious about the words to the song.

"It sounds like he doesn't really want to wake up." His mother's voice spoke from around the corner.

"But he said he did," Edward reminded her. "He wanted to, I could tell."

"What if a part of him wanted to," she proposed. "But another part of him is glad that he is in a dream world and free of all worries for once in a very long life."

"She's right." Rosalie whispered.

Bella felt it as well. Esme was onto something.

"How do we proceed?" Carlisle asked.

"He has to go back in…now." Bella then turned to face Edward. "You were so close, talk to him again. Make him understand that the better life is the one out here. And for God's sake, don't bring up his hair again."

Edward looked around the room, everyone was clearly in agreement.

Rosalie approached Edward and took both his hands. "Tell Jacob something for me."

"Anything."

"Tell him that that he has a Baby Spoon to meet."

Edward nodded his head and climbed up next to Jacob.

_**I'm here my love, **_Bella thought just as Edward's eyes revealed a completely different landscape.

He was outside but in the middle of a swamp. His breeches were already muddy to the knee and he lost both shoes with his first two steps.

"Jacob!" Edward did not mean to sound panicked but he was sinking deeper with each step and there was no dry land in sight. "Jacob, where are you?"

Edward took four more steps before the mud claimed him to the hip and cold wet earth soaked through his shirt. "Jacob! I need your help!"

Even standing still did nothing to slow his decent and when Edward's shoulders felt the weight of the swamp he sat up and pounded his fist in frustration on the bed.

"I don't know what that was, but I'm going again." Edward repositioned himself and put his hand directly over Jacob's heart. "Let me find you," he whispered.

When Edward opened his eyes again, he was on a wooden dock that ran along a mellow shoreline. It was night, late evening at least, and Jacob was sitting on a chair with a crab pot line in one hand and a pistol in the other.

"Edward!" Jacob greeted him, putting only the rope down. "What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, Jacob, I have only been away for a few minutes and besides…"

"Can you take me with you this time?"

"…the last time I tried you put me in a swamp and…"

"I've been in here for days since you left."

"You still really want to go then?" Edward wanted to hear Jacob say it.

"Of course I do."

"Well Jacob, it's really up to you. You see, part of you likes it here, and it's a big enough part that you are not allowing yourself to wake up."

Jacob's mouth fell open. "That's not fair!"

Edward walked right up to his friend and took both his hands, much like his sister had done with him. "Jacob, you have a Baby Spoon to take care of."

Jacob was silent for a long moment.

"Don't you think I know that? Why do you think I want to get out of here so badly?"

"Oh." Edward did not know how to continue.

"I don't have amnesia, Edward."

Edward held up his index finger as he conferred with Bella.

_**I am defin**__**itely talking with the part of Jacob who wants to wake up. How do you think I should go about things if I can't find another Jacob?"**_

Alice was also talking to Bella at the same time.

_**Ask Jacob to help. Alice says that he leads you right to him.**_

"Jacob, we have to find that other part of you. He is the one we need to convince."

"You mean to say that there are actually two of me in this dream?"

"Alice seems to think so, and she says you lead me to him."

Jacob put his hand to his chin. "Come with me."

They walked up the shoreline until the moon was directly over their heads. There were buildings and houses that overlooked the silver water but Jacob paid them no attention.

"I saw a cave up a little further. If there is any part of me that wants to stay, he lives in that cave."

Edward did not question the theory. After all, Alice had already seen that he was right. "When we get there…"

"Let me handle it when we get there," Jacob instructed.

"Now Jacob, we have to be very careful about how we approach him and convince him, it could mean your complete recovery or a lifetime taking walks with me on the beach."

Jacob stopped. The cave was in sight. Its mouth was a frown of rocks a few feet off the ground. "If he is the one keeping me here then I will force him to release me."

"It doesn't work like that, we don't work like that. You must make him see reason."

"You make him see reason," Jacob spat. "I am going to make him see that he has only one choice."

"You can't kill him you know," Edward pointed out. "You will never get out if you kill him."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"Tell you what," Jacob offered. "I will let you speak first. Try anything you can and if it doesn't work than I have nothing to lose."

Edward did not like the arrangement but at least he would get to communicate with the part of Jacob that was fueling the world around them.

They approached the cave together and Jacob put a hand on Edward's back to steady him as he climbed up into the stone mouth first.

Inside, the cave smelled of cooked meat and wood smoke. The two men kept their eyes open as they walked deep within the cave, moving from one large chamber to the next.

"Hold it right there." The voice was behind them.

Jacob and Edward turned around to find a skinny teen age boy blocking their path to the exit. "What are you doing here?" he challenged.

"I am looking for you, Jacob." He recognized himself, even after all the years and he remembered the pain in the boy's heart during the years he grew into manhood. His parents were dead because of him and he was not spared one waking moment of its torment.

"What do you want with me?"

"I am here to free you," Jacob explained, "and to tell you that you have a real and wonderful life with a fiancé and a baby on the way. You are happy there and you can be again."

The boy looked over at Edward. "What's he doing here?"

"I'm your friend but I can leave if you'd like."

"Yes, please go."

Edward left the chamber but when he stopped he heard the youthful voice chase him down. "All the way out!"

"He is our friend," Jacob told the boy. "He will do anything for you."

"Good, then he'll leave without any protest."

Jacob smiled. "Yes he will, but I hope you know that I can't."

"And you want to?"

"Believe me," Jacob got down on one knee and looked the boy in the eyes. "You want to as well. You just don't know it yet."

"I've never been in any place like this."

"You won't have to give it up if that's what you're worried about."

"What do you mean?"

"We're human now. We will be sleeping every night and dreams like this one will be where we live when we sleep."

The boy's eyes opened wide. "You mean…I'm not a wolf any more?"

"No." Jacob did not know how this information would be taken by the boy and knew that the greatest risk was right then.

He rushed forward and attached himself to Jacob in a ferocious hug. His muffled thank you was accompanied by an even stronger squeeze. Jacob accepted it from the mournful boy with a pat on the back.

He pulled back from Jacob and looked down at his bare feet. "I can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Not as a wolf, no."

The boy nodded his head and took a deep breath. "Get ready to run again."

Outside on the beach, Edward watched the ocean rise up like a serpent and when the thunderous impact was ringing in his ears, he sat up.

Next to him, Jacob sat up as well.

"Sorry about that," Jacob apologized to Edward. "He got excited."

Rosalie was in his arms in an instant and he listened for the flutter of his infant's heartbeat.

That's when he knew it was true, that he really was human.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Rosalie," he whispered as he held her and sniffed the air. He found only perfume in his nose.

"I know you are."

"Worried her?" Alice hollered from the next room. "I thought my vision wasn't going to come true!"

Alice walked in holding a picture up. In it, they were all gathered in the gazebo, Carlisle and Esme, Bella and Edward, Jacob and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice, as well as Emmett.

They all had their glasses raised.

"What do you think we're toasting?" Edward asked.

"Friendship?" Jasper offered.

"Weddings!" Esme declared.

"A baby," Jacob whispered.

"A premiere," Emmett suggested.

Alice giggled. "It sounds like we're all going to get very drunk tonight."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**This chapter is accompanied by another original song. This one, "Jacob's Jig" was made possible by the brilliant musicianship of Brian Egan, a friend of mine from various stage productions in my hometown. The link is on my author's page and on the Bella Parole site. (The Bella Parole site link is also on my author's page for that matter).**

**(Notice how I've learned where the period goes at the end of a parenthetical sentence).**

**I haven't worked out the logistics yet, but as an experiment, would you please review with a "That's for me cowboy!" if you would be interested in a copy of the entire soundtrack. **

**Well, I guess it's just lemons and weddings and babies from here on out.**

**Or is it…**

**MOG**


	23. Chapter 23: Opening Night

**Disclaimer: (Yoo Hoo, I'me over here)**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear wrote this whole chapter listening to old Yes songs.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three:**

**Opening Night**

Jacob had a lot of explaining to do. He took a tremendous risk with profound consequences during a battle his group was winning. After a brief examination by Carlisle, he was left alone with his fiancé and a stern warning from Alice that they not be late to the party.

Rosalie was gentle when she questioned him but the tears in her eyes packed a punch. When he explained that Bella had been running to Edward, and left herself open to attack from Michael, Rosalie held her finger to her lips. "You did the right thing, I'm proud of you."

Out in the rooftop garden, Alice hung colored lace in the trees. The western sky was still an angry slash of red and she employed Jasper to use the pawns in the outdoor chess set and a flat piece of wood to create a low table which Esme then draped with linen and arranged with a few modest dishes.

Fortunately, Esme had cooked with optimism assuming that Jacob would be awake and hungry.

Throughout the night, he would graze the snack table and help himself to more new treats. Spiced beef in pockets of crunchy bread, long bamboo skewers stacked like totem poles with fruit, and his favorite item of them all, chocolate raspberry truffles.

The vampires ate too, complaining unnecessarily that they were going to become too heavy.

Jacob and Rosalie were never apart.

He held onto her like a boy with his kite, clearly filled with joy at having contact with someone so wondrous and alive. She was in a happy daze half the night, still processing that she and her unborn baby had their Jacob back.

It was Jasper who scolded him for risking so much when the battle had clearly turned in their favor.

Rosalie awoke from her drifting state of bliss and shot him a glare. Jasper held up his hands with a smile and spoke no more on the subject.

_**It's my fault.**_

Edward heard Bella's thought and then heard her wondering if he had just heard her. She knew that he would try to convince her otherwise and she did not want to be convinced. She needed the whole incident to be her fault for a little longer.

The chuckle came into her mind like a bee. _**You are adorable when you rationalize my love.**_

Edward could tell that she had heard him by the way she rolled her eyes. He had been near the gazebo and Bella was returning from the chess board where she considered a truffle while she set right an overturned bishop piece.

_**I know what you are going to say**__, _Bella thought back_, __**that if I think it's my fault for getting too close to Michael, then it's actually your fault for being the person I was running to.**_

Edward was impressed. He waited until Bella was close enough for him to compliment her out loud.

"Bella, you did it!"

Not surprisingly, she looked confused.

That thought was not fully formed in my mind yet." Edward was clearly excited and even gave her a congratulatory hug before continuing. "You're able to grasp things at the subconscious level Bella, I can't even do that."

"What do you mean?" Bella asked.

"You're able to tell people what they're thinking before they even know they're thinking it."

Carlisle laughed from a few feet away, where he and Esme had discovered some of the rum that had not been mixed with blood. "I think all women have that power, son." By the sound of him, Edward noted it was not the doctor's first visit to that particular stash of spirits that evening.

Bella kissed her true love on the cheek and promised to feel better before letting Edward join his parents. She then sought out Alice.

Alice was perched on the bench swing, drawing pictures. She had gotten herself a tablet of paper and had mostly been drawing flower arrangements and cake designs for two different weddings.

"Alice, there you are."

"Bella, do you like this?" Alice held up a nearly completed centerpiece for a banquet table. It was made up of two candles that moved in a dance together with the help of intricate gears and gravity fed artistry.

Bella examined the sketch, and even without the benefit of motion could see how the masterpiece worked. "I love it!" She was stunned, the unique creation was beautiful. "What is it?"

Alice's eyes widened. She quickly folded the hard leather binder and held it to her lap. "I think it was a surprise I just ruined."

Bella nodded her head. "Jacob?"

"Who else would be so romantic as well as so…"

"Industrial?"

"Yes, industrial." Alice smiled.

"We'll just forget that I saw it," Bella suggested.

"Alright."

Bella sat next to her on the swing and the two friends looked out at the purposeful boats on the Hudson River.

"I saw the baby," Alice whispered. "I didn't draw it yet. I didn't know if I should."

"How did it look?" Bella was fascinated and could not help but ask.

"_HE_ looked adorable."

"I think that you should tell Rosalie that you saw something and ask her if she wants to know."

"Do you think Jacob would want to know?"

Bella answered quickly. "Oh yes."

"I think I know what they name him as well." Alice kept her voice low, not knowing that Jacob could no longer hear like the rest of the supernatural group.

"Don't tell me," Bella insisted. "I want everything else to be a surprise."

"Me too," Alice agreed with a slight frown. She was getting her first taste of the down side of having the future reveal itself so indiscriminately.

They rejoined the party just as Jacob was telling everyone something that made him swallow hard. "I have tried to change several times tonight and couldn't do it. That has never…never failed me in centuries." He took a deep breath. "I am human."

Jasper stepped right up to him and inhaled deeply. "Yes, I can smell it now…your old scent is very powerful and you have been tended to by humans. I can see how we missed it."

"You vampires have lost your chance to change back into humans," Jacob observed.

Jasper raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" After Jacob killed Riley, he had been able to relay his discovery of what his blood could do. He had told them all in the green room before the battle and wondered at the time if any of them would want to convert to a mortal life once Bella was rescued.

Jacob did not know how to answer Jasper's question. He smiled at his friend and asked a question instead. "Do any of you regret not using it while you had the chance?"

"No." Alice was the first to answer.

Jasper shook his head steadily back and forth.

Bella and Edward looked at each other then answered together. "Absolutely not."

Emmett remained silent. When he saw that everyone was waiting for him to respond, he did so honestly. "I hadn't thought of that until you just brought it up."

"What do you think, Emmett?" Jasper was especially interested in hearing the newest member's opinion, particularly since he had been the one to transform him. "Would you? If you had the chance?"

Emmett smiled and looked around at all his friends. "No, no I don't think I would ever want to give this up."

Jacob turned to Rosalie and made sure to look at Carlisle and Else as well. "What about you? Are you sorry you missed the chance to become a vampire, knowing that you had a way to change back?"

"Good question." Edward commented. He loved a good theological discussion.

Rosalie, like Alice answered quickly. "Not me."

Esme shook her head quickly back and forth while wrinkling up her nose. "No thank you…" She realized the face she was making and added. "No offense."

Carlisle glanced over at Jasper and Alice. "You two asked me this question once before in the library. Remember?"

"I sure do," Jasper answered.

Carlisle shifted his gaze from Jasper to Jacob. "My answer has not changed since then. It does not interest me, not even in mortal tragedy."

"I hope you all understand that I had to ask," Jacob replied. "I needed to know if I cost any of you a shot at…well…the life I now have."

"Let me ask you a question, Jacob." Edward's voice was gentle but somehow expectant.

"Go ahead."

"Do you wish you had a chance to get your powers back? Or become a vampire for that matter?"

Jacob put his arm around Rosalie and looked at her as he spoke. "Just when I found a reason to stay awake, I fell asleep. But now I get to wake up with you in my arms and presumably grow old with you as my wife." He looked up at the group with tears in his eyes.

"I wouldn't want anything else."

* * *

It's amazing how much work people can accomplish when they are not plotting a daring rescue.

Weeks went by in a blur.

Carlisle and Jacob were hanging a lengthy canvas banner announcing the premiere of _The Tempest_ over the arch of the Theatre of the Heart on a muggy mid-September afternoon. It would open the following night.

They were the only two men in the group who could go outside during the day, so the job was delegated to them. Rosalie was with them, as was Esme. The ladies were each holding onto the borrowed ladders while their respective men tied off the sign that Emmett had painted himself.

It was good, better than any of them knew he was capable of.

Jacob whistled while he climbed and stopped only when he put the rope between his teeth to steady himself with his other hand against the theatre wall.

Esme was holding Carlisle's ladder and shook her head in amazement at how well Jacob was adapting to his new condition. He was handling humanity with nothing less than grace

She was proud of both her children, one had shown the world that she could manage a construction site, finances for said site, and design and install all the specialty glass. Her other child was a New York City director who could just as easily play piano at Carnegie Hall.

Esme had been walking on bubbles since finding out that there would be a baby in the family. She did not know it until it happened to her, but she wanted a grandchild to love.

"Have you two thought of any names yet?" Esme was mindful to speak loud enough for Jacob to hear.

"We both like Eleanor if it's a girl," Rosalie answered. "But Alice says it's going to be a boy and I believe her."

"So, what will you name him then?" Esme asked.

Rosalie looked up at Jacob. "Jacob wants to name him Alistair, but I'm leaning more towards Benjamin."

"Oh, I like Benjamin," Esme responded with a smile.

Jacob looked down at her, then over at his partner in twine. Carlisle smiled and stated, "I like Benjamin too."

Jacob laughed and said loudly, "My son will be Benjamin Black!"

Esme was happy to be there when the decision was made. "Carlisle, we're going to be grandparents soon," she called up.

Carlisle's smile faltered and Jacob began laughing so hard that Rosalie scolded him by wiggling the ladder.

"We'll have to move back into the city," Esme declared. She and Carlisle had never sold their property next to Central Park, and with Michael gone the elder Cullens had moved back into their hide-a-way in the country.

At her mention of moving yet again, even though Jacob was sure it was in jest, Carlisle's cheeks paled and Jacob laughed even harder.

"What is Emmett up to?" Esme asked as she admired the banner once again.

"Promotion, promotion, promotion," Rosalie's impression was unexpected and got them all laughing again. She apologized and instructed the men to hurry along before giving her mother a more detailed answer. "He says that since everything is on schedule here, he needs to focus on filling the seats."

"But he has already been to the papers, dozens of times," Carlisle observed as both men began to climb down to the sidewalk.

"He says it's not enough." Rosalie cocked her head to the south. "He's even hob knobbing downtown."

"Oh, your father took me to one of those places for a New Year's Eve party. It smelled like apples."

Carlisle and Jacob folded the ladders and walked them around the corner to store them inside the stable. Carlisle called over his shoulder that the name of the place was Fatso's. It was not an elegant sounding establishment, but it was not only gourmet but quite vogue as well.

With the set built the large room should have been empty, but Jacob and Rosalie had begun building a beautiful new carriage. It was going to hold the entire group comfortably and since Garrett, her partner in making all the glass for the theatre, was also in the show playing the part of Antonio, he had been helping her each evening after rehearsal.

The men, every last one of them, fussed about Rosalie working at all in her 'condition'. She did not argue with any of them; she simply told them all to 'shut up' and went down to work on the project anyway.

She loved Jacob's jaw dropping design and wanted to do it justice. The glass was a significant part of it. The entire rear of the carriage, as well as the roof, was going to be made of the smoky protection. It would be too dark for anyone to see into, yet it would provide a magnificent view of the vertical city from the inside.

Plush benches were already installed along three walls, creating a U that opened at the back where the glass was supposed to act as the door that swung upward.

It was supposed to swing upward, but Rosalie warned Jacob that it would be too heavy, so instead she designed four rubber cushions that would sit on each corner and protect the glass from being scratched on the ground as the door lowered like a drawbridge.

Jacob wasn't sold on the idea, but Rosalie had already consulted Alice and knew she would get her way. In good form she warned Jacob to stop wasting time engineering around his problem and when she showed the picture Alice had drawn, he gasped and fell in love with the design amendment at once.

"Will the glass be strong enough for us to walk on?" Jacob knew that Rosalie would not suggest it if she hadn't considered something so basic, but asked the question anyway. He liked to see her eyes light up when she expounded on something.

Bella noticed the similarity between her and Jacob and told him that any woman who even knew who Nikola Tesla was a keeper.

She had told Jacob this over what would later be known as the Wedding Dinner. It had taken place a week after Jacob had woken up, and Bella made sure that everyone was there before asking Rosalie and Jacob if it wouldn't be prudent to postpone the Cullen wedding in favor of the Black ceremony.

Rosalie and Jacob were stunned. It was as if Bella had read their minds. They knew that she and Edward had already pushed their nuptials back once before, but as Bella pointed out when she made the offer, the vampires had forever and the two of them would only have their human lives.

Jacob looked at his forever friend, Bella, and his eyes said even more than the stream of words pouring from his mind - or more to the point, his heart.

He finally opened his mouth to say the words and Bella spoke first. "You're welcome. It's the right thing to do."

"You're just doing this so they'll name you the Godparents." Alice spoke in mock disappointment. Edward and Bella were, of course, asked to be the Godparents a few hours later when the conversation turned to converting one of the theatre's extra rooms into a nursery.

Both weddings had been discussed at length and the family had a little less than five weeks until Rosalie and Jacob married at the St. Patrick's, the new Cathedral on 50th, not the older, smaller church on Mulberry Street.

The Black wedding would be held on Tuesday, November 1st. Bella and Edward would be married a month later, just in time for Rosalie and Jacob to return from their Honeymoon, on Thursday, December 1st.

Both dates would be full moons.

Roughly.

By the end of that dinner, nearly every detail was aired out and the men ran from the room like it was on fire when they were excused.

Jasper and Emmett were praised for their bravery in the face of double wedding planning that did not technically involve either of them. To a lesser extent, Carlisle was also sited as having a strong constitution for altar flowers and Pachelbel's _Canon in D_.

Emmett was roused from what appeared to be a reverie and sheepishly admitted that he had allowed himself to go wandering in the marvelous heaven inside his head.

Edward asked his father to be his Best Man.

Bella asked Jacob to give her away.

These were two things that had to be explained to Emmett while the men stood in the garden that night.

It was indeed a memorable dinner because it was the first time the group ever made plans that ended up panning out exactly as they envisioned them.

* * *

Jacob started several projects with his Rosalie in the first few weeks of September.

He thought that he would feel vulnerable and exposed as a mortal but he was too busy realizing something that he had not known since childhood; that each minute of human existence is either a new wonder or a missed opportunity.

He was scared to go to sleep that first night and wept in his lover's arms. Rosalie was an angel, playing with his short hair and promising that she would be the one to stay up and watch him, which she did.

She even sang to him in a soft but true voice. Only her brother heard her and he paused to soak in the emotion he felt for Rosalie and her new family. Edward was delighted that he was going to share a home with his nephew.

He was also excited for opening night and was confident that his lavish and modern retelling of what was arguably the Immortal Bard's best work, would be met with the appropriate amount of awe and ovation.

Bella had been astounded at the actors' progress and mentioned at dinner that night that she sincerely believed humans were somehow able to convey emotions more tangibly.

Lawrence was very good as Alonso, and rehearsed with gleeful abandon but his part was rather thin and it was unfair to judge him against Miranda and Prospero.

Neither Lawrence nor any of the previous guests of the theatre were at dinner the night before the show opened. They had all completely moved back into their mansion on 110th Street.

But they had their tickets.

The first to arrive was Boston. He was wearing an evening jacket and held his head high. A man of his color was not allowed in many of the other theatres, let alone given a private box.

He passed word that the others would be joining him shortly and took his seat in the auditorium while it was still, still.

Boston watched as one by one the seats all filled with ticket holders. He had heard from Emmett that the show would sell out. The two men had become friends and Boston had accompanied him to more than a few upstairs offices where someone bobbed their cigar in time with their head as Emmett laid out his already written story and his already submitted photograph film.

Emmett wrote stories on most of the actors, showcasing past roles and teasing the reader with _Tempest_ lines to look for the character they were playing. He also wrote a story on Alice, the costume designer, and in the photo she held her favorite parasol with the concealed blade.

All together, he submitted eight different articles to six different publications. He announced that tickets would be sold at the door and those turned away would be welcome to purchase the next evening's seats at that time if they wished or return the next day a trifle earlier.

The conversational tone of Emmett's article's captured the editor's attention at both the Post and the Times, and each had offered him a job on their writing staff.

Emmett was considering it.

Actually, he was considering adopting a pseudonym and writing for both at the same time. Maybe he would even pick a fight with himself to bolster sales.

Yes, Emmett was considering it indeed.

Boston saved him a seat since Edward decided that a stage manager was not needed for this performance. He was right, it was a small cast and all the lighting cues were handled upstairs by a studious but strapping teenage boy who would have looked great on stage if he were not so shy.

Emmett showed up with Lawrence and Sam, and within a few minutes the box and the ones on either side of it were bustling with activity. Jasper and Alice joined the four already in Boston's box while Bella, Edward, Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie and Jacob occupied the one to his left.

He looked right and nodded at August, who was settling in next to Sean and the rest of their friends.

Edward was running his hands through his hair every ten seconds.

The forest green curtain pulled back to reveal a sea onstage. The lights overhead were blue and white, but there were also bright flashes like lightening. A second after each flash a rumbling filled the room. There was an older fellow named Richard who agreed to provide a few sound effects in exchange for tickets to give away to guests on his boat tours around the island.

The shipwreck was artistically savage and drew applause from the audience when a spray of water sprang up from the pit.

Prospero's house was where most of the play was set, save for some inspired wilderness settings, and the table for the big feast was so well appointed that Esme was almost jealous that all the food was fake instead of real.

Alice made it all, she sewed it all and it not only looked fabulous, but it was sturdy and would be saved for future shows where food would be used on stage.

Esme whispered something to Carlisle about how actually smelling a turkey leg would help with Edward's immersive style of presenting a play.

He did not disagree, but his stomach was rather grateful that it did not have to smell anything so tempting with an entire act to go.

At intermission, Edward walked among the crowd. He declined to be photographed and was able to listen to bits and pieces of conversations from all over the building while he stood out of the front steps and let the evening air pamper his cheeks.

"They love it." Bella found him in the first place she looked.

"Yes, they really do. And I love it too."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"I was hot."

Bella laughed. "Do you want to be alone?"

"Of course not."

"Then why don't you come inside." Bella turned as if she had just given him an order and walked in through the door displaying the Eiffel tower at noon.

Edward followed her and as soon as he entered the theatre Emmett began clapping loudly from the first promenade. Everyone inside was facing him in an instant and then they were all clapping.

The lobby was as loud as a storm, and when Edward held up his hand it quieted as if the hand of God had blocked the wind.

"Please," Edward said, waving the behaving applause down until he could be heard by everyone present. "Please, do not tire yourselves out…for the sake of the actors, I beg you."

They laughed and threatened to break into applause again, but Edward held up both his hands and the crowd settled down.

"Thank you all for attending this evening. Please help spread the word about _The Tempest_ because we have just three weeks to make our mark with this, the debut production of the Theatre of the Heart."

The audience began to applaud again and that time Edward let them. He was a good speaker, always had been, he just did not like it much.

He ducked into the private lounge, which was a vampire only room for the night and drank two big glasses of Emmett's blood rum before returning for the second act.

Ariel, the spirit, stole the show, but Edward knew he would. Prospero was being played perfectly and Edward enjoyed listening to the audience members wonder if they should like him or not.

Miranda was lovely and was the desire of all the characters as well as half the attendees. This is also exactly what Edward wanted. He had Alice accentuate her gracious curves and she was lit with a dash of red as often as possible.

When Prospero himself came out to deliver the epilogue, Edward thought back to the night on the roof when he favored Michael and his men with a rendition of the final words of the show.

On stage, Prospero was asking for the audience to release him from his island prison and allow him to return to his homeland.

As he listened, Edward was wondering if Michael ever made it home.

* * *

Everyone was exhausted by Sunday's matinee. The entire first weekend was a sell out and Emmett made sure to make that point in the article he was writing in the library as the sky turned from baby blue to tones of licorice and plum.

Edward was sitting in one of the armchairs, as was Bella. Edward was being interviewed by their resident journalist for a New York Times article.

Emmett was going to interview Bella, the show's producer for a Post piece as soon as he asked Edward a few more questions. Emmett had turned down both offers for staff positions at the prominent papers and decided to freelance for the time being. As it was he was not seeking payment for the articles, he just wanted them printed.

"What will you be directing next?" Emmett was smoking a pipe, a habit picked up from doctors in Paris. Since New York had a tobacconist on every other corner, he could not resist the temptation.

"I haven't decided yet, but I think that it will involve more music," Edward replied.

"What do you hope audience members will take away from the experience?"

"Well," Edward paused. It was a complicated answer and he wanted to be succinct since Emmett was typing everything he said. "I hope that they will take away a sense of being a part of something extraordinary." He waited for Emmett to catch up. "This is, in my opinion, Shakespeare's most complex play, and I was also hoping to give theatre goers a new appreciation for the lost art of poetry in performance."

Emmett pecked at the typewriter for about a half a minute longer. "Thank you." He turned to Bella while he pulled out the page and inserted a fresh sheet of paper.

Three floors above them, Jacob and Rosalie were in the top room of the tower. Edward and Bella had insisted that it be the perfect spot for the nursery. It was directly above the parents' bedroom and offered the most breathtaking view of the city for new, young eyes to behold.

"The square grand has to stay," Rosalie reminded Jacob. "We had it built in this room and it won't fit down the stairs."

"I like it," Jacob smiled. He had been known to continue his playing after his time in Spain where he composed Rosalie a song called _Conspicuous Smile_. "Besides, we have plenty of space."

Rosalie laughed. "You think that now but just wait."

Jacob suggested making the baby's furniture themselves in order to design a bed, wardrobe, and a toy box with rounded backs to fit against the tower walls.

Rosalie thought that they should share their ideas with Alice in hopes of prompting a peek at the final design through one of her visions.

"It doesn't work like that." Alice was just walking up the stairs.

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked.

"If you decide to do something then I might see the outcome, but if you make any decision knowing that you are intending to see my interpretation first, then you really didn't decide anything and I won't see any outcome at all."

"That…actually makes sense," Rosalie contemplated.

Alice walked around the room. "This will make a great nursery, and we will all be up here way more once it becomes so."

"You…wouldn't be interesting in designing it for us would you?" Jacob asked. He and Rosalie had already talked about asking her to make the room over.

"I thought you'd never ask!"

Five floors below them, Jasper and Carlisle were stretching leather over the big bench for the front of the carriage still being built in the stable. They had stuck with the color black and Rosalie surprised Jacob that morning with a custom piece of glass that shielded the driver from rain.

"Have you taken a ride on it?" Carlisle asked. He was pointing at Rosalie's new motorized tri-wheeled conveyance. He himself had asked for, and been allowed two different rides on it. He was still exited about it.

Jasper shook his head. "Not interested. Horses have pulled wagons for thousands of years. They're not about to stop. It's a fad, it'll pass."

"Jacob doesn't think so." Carlisle pointed once again, this time at a large rectangular area beneath the spot where they were about to put the bench. "See that? That's where the motor will go some day."

"No it's not," Jasper laughed. "It's where all our bags will be carried."

"Until such time as he installs a motor," Carlisle added.

Jasper laughed but took a closer look at the area in question. There were several pre-drilled bolt holes.

"Huh…I think you might be right."

Carlisle rolled his eyes. Jasper had always been a hard one to get with the new times back at the Val de Grace Hospital in Paris. He was just old fashioned that way.

"Jacob is going to retire our two admirers here." Carlisle pointed his finger for the third time in that short conversation, this time to a pair of beautiful black horses silently regarding their progress.

"He is," Jasper confirmed. "Jacob was put in touch with a gentleman from upstate who says he will trade four geldings for them and promises that they will spend the rest of their lives heavy with foal and munching on Bermuda grass."

"Sounds nice." Carlisle worked the leather into place with surgeon's hands, as did his partner and they bolted the bench down when they were done.

"He says it's going to take four horses to pull this extra big coach." Jasper told him.

"I don't doubt it." Carlisle walked around to back of the carriage, the curved glass door had round rubber pads on the top two corners and when he pulled on a braided leather rope, it fell forward.

It was a weighty piece, at least sixty pounds, but if one was ready for it there was no problem. Carlisle put his hand near the top and stopped it before it really got going. He lowered it to the ground with a grunt.

The rubber feet actually made the door bounce a little when he stepped inside and sat on the wrap around bench.

"I like it in here," he told Jasper, who was walking in as well.

"Just wait until we get side windows." Jasper spoke as he sat down opposite of Carlisle and looked out the round hole cut into the wood behind the doctor. "We'll have a better coach than President Harrison."

The hole behind Carlisle, and Jasper for that matter, was three feet wide. Rosalie had been tempted to fill the slot with stained glass, much like the panels in the front doors of the theatre, but she couldn't guarantee safety from the sun like she could with the thick and gray tinted glass.

Carlisle crossed his leg by putting his ankle on his knee. "I was wondering something, if you don't mind me asking."

"Of course not." Jasper could not think of a single thing he wouldn't feel comfortable talking to his old colleague about.

"Jacob gave you Michael's book and told you to make sure it was safe, right?"

Jasper nodded his head. "He gave it to me just a few hours…before."

"It was the last time he spoke to you as an immortal being," Carlisle stated.

"It hasn't seemed to change him," Jasper observed. "If anything, he has even more life in him."

"My thoughts exactly. Do you think that his baby will have his old blood?

"I was planning on talking with him about that actually," Jasper revealed. "And it's funny that you should bring up the book."

"I was just wondering if you had a chance take a look at it for yourself."

"I finished it last night actually,"

Carlisle looked like he had not heard Jasper. He just blinked at his friend and then his mouth opened slightly. "I thought it was impossible to read it so quickly."

Jasper shrugged his shoulders. "I have a way of seeing things that makes them uncomplicated."

"Yes...but it was supposed to be extraordinarily difficult and time consuming."

"Well, I did have to squint if that's what you mean."

Carlisle actually grabbed Jasper by the hand and led him out of the carriage and into the elevator.

"We're going to see Bella, aren't we?"

Carlisle responded to Jasper's question by pressing the button that would take them both upstairs.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Special thanks to ****Mingo for providing a home for Jacob's Jig and so many other songs. The links to all the songs are listed on my author's page.**

**Also, thanks to Amy Morgan for her continued expertise on all equestrian matters. I have leaned on her expertise at least a dozen times during the last two years.**

**Due to RL obligations, Brutte Parole will not post next week. However, Cockeyed Optimist will! **

**MOG**


	24. Chapter 24: Closing Verse

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a miniature Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**Closing Verse**

On the corner of 8th Avenue and 34th Street in Manhattan, a stone castle stood guard over a budding Garment District from the southwest corner. Edward sat in the third floor of the castle's most prominent feature with his hand in his vest pocket and his back against the window.

He listened as Emmett concluded his interview with Bella and thought about what he would like to see the theatre produce next. He was rather interested in something original and asked Bella a question with his mind so as not to interrupt Emmett. He wanted to know if she was interested in performing again.

She shook her head slightly and he heard her lily voice speak like rain.

_**I might consider playing with a string quartet or something like that, but I led a very public life in Paris and I may be known by several immigrants here right now. I **__**will have to lead an inconspicuous life in New York, Edward.**_

"Ha!" Edward's blurted laugh startled Emmett and made Bella giggle at them both.

_**Good luck being inconspicuous Bella**__**. You are the most beautiful, intelligent and talented woman on this entire island. That's difficult to hide, mon petit chou.**_

Bella looked coyly at Edward.

_**I like it when you call me that.**_

"What…may I ask, is going on with you two?" Emmett was glaring back and forth between the two, understanding he was being excluded from a private conversation. "Can you children not wait until morning like the rest of the civilized vampire race?"

"Children?" Bella and Edward chimed together; they had been doing that more and more as their minds became synchronized.

"Can you please just answer the question? It's the last one, I promise." Emmett was kind, and believable, in his request. Bella cleared her throat.

"Working with Edward has been wonderful." She spoke in a bright clear voice and Emmett took down her words quickly. "I even took a small holiday last month because he had things so well in hand."

Both men snickered.

"I hope that he will now treat the goodly people of New York City to his astounding talents as a musician."

Edward rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Emmett prodded.

Bella enjoyed the character she conjured for the occasion but ran out of things to say, even about Edward. She was tired of the game and when they all heard the elevator moving upward, she took her cue gracefully. "No, thank you."

"That's alright, Bella," Emmett said. "Let's leave 'em with a little mystery." He was happy with her answers and already had Bella and Edward's photograph taken for the showcase piece.

Bella smiled and stood up to curtsey.

Edward sought out the elevator's occupant. It was Carlisle; he was excited about something and was on his way to speak with Bella. Edward could also hear Jasper, who was thinking about taking Alice on a trip down south, just the two of them.

Jasper had enjoyed being in The South again, and Alice felt like she was coming home when they arrived in Kentucky. Edward enjoyed listening to Jasper think about it. He was a nostalgic man by nature and his thoughts were almost always positive.

They were entering the lobby and Edward heard Jasper's thoughts turn to the new floor Riley had been forced to install as punishment for killing Randall. Edward also heard Esme in the green room.

"My mother is about to call us all to dinner," Edward told them. "Bella, can you reach out and find Carlisle? He wants to speak with you. Can you hear him?"

Bella closed her eyes and began casting nets. She found both Carlisle and Jasper, they were close and they were talking to each other. "I hear them," she said. Emmett looked on with astonishment.

"Good, will you go meet them downstairs and tell them that dinner is ready? I will go up and get Jacob, Rosalie and Alice."

Emmett went with Bella and they met Jasper and Carlisle just as they were entering the private lounge a floor below the library.

"I hear you have something to tell me," Bella announced.

"Actually, it's Jasper," Carlisle told her casually. "But it can wait until we're at the table."

Bella marveled at Carlisle's response. "How did you know? Edward only now just heard her thoughts."

Carlisle sniffed the air. "My nose works." He sniffed again. "Pot roast."

Bella smiled and sniffed herself. She smelled carrots. "Edward is getting the others."

Edward walked up into the top floor of the tower and found Jacob and Rosalie standing over Alice, who was sitting on the little stool that guarded the square grand piano and drawing with her left hand.

"It's a bottle." Alice said.

"A baby bottle?" Rosalie asked.

"A wine bottle," she replied.

Jacob looked on with interest but turned to face Edward when he walked up the stairs.

He announced dinner and Jacob was down the stairs before either woman had done so much as turn their heads.

"I see his appetite hasn't been altered," Alice said with a giggle.

They followed Jacob down and when they entered the green room his plate was already full, as was his mouth.

"Please sit everyone," Carlisle encouraged. "I have an announcement to make."

Rosalie took a chair next to Jacob and began dishing her plate with sesame salad. Edward and Bella sat together as well, and when he pulled her chair out for her he looked at Jacob as if to say, 'this is how a gentleman acts.'

Jacob did not notice.

"Jasper, would you like to tell them?" Carlisle asked.

Jasper shook his head. "You're doing fine."

Carlisle chuckled. "Jasper has just informed me that he has completed reading Michael's book."

Jacob looked up, momentarily forgetting his meal. He was very curious about how that book had ended.

Bella and Alice both had eyes the size of the dinner rolls on their plates.

Emmett scooped some thickly sliced roast and nodded his head. He seemed to be the only one not surprised that Jasper would have been able to see past the book's magical qualities. "Was it any good?" he asked.

"It was…interesting," Jasper responded. "A bit pedantic perhaps, but I didn't mind."

"Go get it please Jasper," Edward urged.

Jasper rose from the table with his cloth napkin in hand and left the room with a kiss to Alice's cheek.

"I don't know how he does it," Bella said. "All this time, we could have just given the book to him." Edward listened as her mind turned to thoughts of how differently things might have played out if Michael had known. She was glad he didn't.

"He sees about as much as Edward hears," Alice explained. "Jasper describes things to me, like the way the cables vibrate on the Brooklyn Bridge, and it's beautiful."

Edward nodded in understanding. His synesthesia had shown him things that one could scarcely imagine, like the landscapes in Emmett's heaven. As they waited, Edward wondered what type of things Jasper might see if he went there.

Bella heard the thought and touched his hand under the table.

_**We should try to get him**__** to go there with us.**_

Edward had already taken Bella to the fantastical world on the top floor of Emmett's 'mental hospital'. The three of them had two adventures already that could only be described as one does a dream.

When Jasper returned with the book in hand, Bella felt immediately uncomfortable. She was tempted to ask him to just burn it but, like the others, she was curious.

"Why don't you tell us the story in your own words," Bella suggested to him. "But when you get near the end I would like to hear the last few verses."

Jasper nodded his head as he opened the book anyway. "Didn't you say that Michael saw sand when he looked in here?"

"He did," Bella confirmed. "But he dumped it out. Riley saw tiny knots, monkey fists and I heard tiny sleigh bells."

Jasper shook his head and smiled down at the first page. "I see what might be a layer of murky oil or grease on the pages, but as long as I hold the book still, I can see through it."

"Tell us the story, Jasper," Jacob said.

* * *

"The book consists of a poem that describes a group of people who worshiped the sun." Jasper sipped a glass of blood while he spoke. They had asked the humans long before if the necessary act bothered them, but as long as it was pig blood they did not seem to take offense or become ill at the sight.

"They built a city that closed like a flower at night." Jasper spoke with the glass in one hand. "Although they were smart, creative people, over time they developed a fear of the night time and the moon in particular."

Jasper editorialized for a moment. "Fear is a poison, but the funny thing is, the antidote comes from the same place as the poison, our minds."

He continued with his narrative. "Like any society, they had ne'er-do-wells, and when individuals were convicted of crimes they were banished to holes in the ground outside. They were exposed to the moon and actually cut off from the sun for the length of their imprisonment."

"Were they fed?" Esme asked.

"Well, I don't know if it mentioned anything about that but…WAIT! THAT'S RIGHT!" Jasper began flipping through the pages of the small red book with what looked like black tree roots growing on it.

"I almost forgot, they were NOT fed well and…let me find it…Ah! '_They were starved until at last they ate the reptiles condemned to share their fate_.' Over time, they grew strong, vampire strong."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Are they really suggesting that vampires came into existence because people ate snakes and slept in moonlight?"

Jasper shook his head. "This is just a fable, it is meant as an allegory and it uses symbolism instead of science to make its point."

Emmett leaned back in his chair, clearly deciding not to take everything so seriously. "Well then, do continue."

"There was a large prison population eventually and one night they fought back. It was successful, as insurrections go, but it backfired on them. They were now empowered by the moon but killed by the sun and the people within the city discovered their weakness. They ordered all the prison wells opened during the day, even for those who had not been a part of the uprising."

Jasper looked around at them one by one. "It was mass murder. Only the ones who had been actively fighting and hiding in caves survived."

"That's awful," Alice whispered as she touched Jasper's arm. He nodded as their heads drew together like dandelions.

"It gets worse," he said to her when the moment passed.

"They broke into the city and took the children…wait a minute…" Jasper flipped forward again. "Here it is, '_They would even take children into the night and return them changed, as if from a bite. Their faces got pale and their eyes turned red. They looked just like the walking dead_.' What does that sound like?"

"But our eyes aren't red," Bella pointed out.

"Right," Jasper agreed. "And it's not the bite that turns a human into a vampire either. Again, I think that theatrics are coming into play."

"How old do you think that book is?" Esme was curious.

Jasper looked Bella's way, deferring to her. "You know far more about this type of thing than I do."

Bella closed one eye and cocked her head to the side, it was her thinking face. "We know it's at least as old as Michael and he had it since the eleven hundreds. I would guess that it is only a few centuries older than that, maybe as early as the eight hundreds."

"Interesting times, the eight hundreds," Edward noted. "Do you think it came from Europe?"

"Yes," Bella answered. "Even though Michael acquired it in Sicily and has said that an Egyptian vampire claimed it was his. The simple fact is that it was written in English reveals a lot for those times."

Jasper nodded his head. "Good point."

"Please continue," Esme instructed.

"They spent the next one hundred generations taking the city back and forth," Jasper told them. "All they did was fight, but it did further their societies technologically; they made several important scientific discoveries and it was a valuable thing because their world entered a kind of an ice age and I don't think they would have survived it otherwise."

Emmett was curious by this revelation. "How cold did it get?"

"The poem states that the ocean froze over," Jasper answered. "Both parties waited it out and a type of unofficial treaty was observed."

Jasper began flipping through the pages. "This is where things get interesting…the snow finally melted and…_'It was then when the world was fast asleep, that a fur covered man came from his keep.'_ It describes a man who put his faith not in the sun or the moon, but in the earth."

Jasper looked down at the book as he spoke. "He kept to himself, but he was observed and everybody was immediately jealous of his health and strength." He looked up at Jacob. "They worked together to capture and torture him."

"What happened to him?" Jacob's voice and face were impassive.

"They finally let him go, but never studied his blood. The poem made a point of mentioning that."

"I remember," Bella replied. "I was the one who translated that part. I think it's what made Michael take such an interest in Jacob." She lowered her head. It hurt her to think about that.

"I was already interesting," Jacob stated confidently.

He received a chuckle from the group, even from Bella and he nodded at Jasper. "Go ahead and finish, Jazz."

Emmett sniffed. "Jazz…I like that."

"Alright, well, they stopped fighting after that for one thing. They went their separate ways but the moon skin people were forever the sub culture, living underground and they were very outnumbered."

"What about the fur covered man?" Esme asked.

"The world was getting smaller and he couldn't stay hidden so he lived among the humans. No one remembered what he looked like anyway. He even married and…oh yes…" Jasper flipped forward a few pages. "It says here that only the sons inherit the condition but that it sometimes skips generations."

Jacob nodded his head. It explained why he was able to kill his father so easily. He was just an ordinary human who had not even known of the monster he created.

Edward gave his friend a worried look and saw that Bella was also watching him.

_**Are you listening to Jacob?**_

Edward's question drifted into Bella's head like the scrap of a song.

_**Yes, and I don't like to hear him think like that. **_

Bella was frustrated, she had seen Jacob come very far over the last year in terms of accepting what happened with his parents as an accident that even he could not prevent.

Over time, the lack of sleep had damaged him somehow but his grief was hurting him even more. She had hoped that both things were finally a thing of the past.

_**He's alright**__**, Bella. He's happier than he has ever been in his life.**_

"If Benjamin does have it, it will be triggered by anger," Jacob revealed. "We all will have to be aware of that."

Alice spoke up. "Wouldn't we be able to smell it?"

The vampires looked at each other and nodded their heads. "Jacob had a scent that was different," Jasper confirmed. "I remember meeting him at Val de Grace when he brought Edward in…the first time."

Esme furrowed her brow and looked at Carlisle, "When he fell through the stage," he reminded her. In the wake of her son being shot in the back and resurrected as a vampire, she had forgotten all about the injury to Edward's arm.

Bella spoke next. "How does it end, Jasper?"

"I'll start with the verse about the earth man's descendants," he began.

_**None of them actually knew that they were**_

_**A very cursed race's miracle cure**_

_For even a sip of their feral blood_

_Could let them swim in a solar floor_

_**The world will grow tall and even at night**_

_**Multiple cities will be filled with light**_

_People will even exchange their fears_

_For ones with smaller souvenirs_

_**And what became of a savior subjected**_

_**Was just what one might have expected**_

_He disappeared and so did his kin_

_They had their own families and blended in_

_**But the secret was just beneath their skin**_

_**And**__** the blood will not always stay within**_

_It can be used to make Moon Skins be_

_A living part of humanity_

_**But if swallowed by a mortal man**_

_**It will kill**__** as poison can**_

_One blood gives life, one blood takes it_

_One man lives life, one forsakes it_

_**And if the blood is mixed it**__** will create**_

_**The elixir for**__** a Godly state.**_

Jasper closed the book."That's it." A sober mood settled over the group.

Jacob reached out for it and it was passed to him. "This is dangerous."

"What do you think it was talking about?" Alice asked him.

Edward answered for him. "It suggests to me that mixing vampire blood and wolf's blood will create something superior. Something godlike."

They all sat in silence.

"I wonder if gives you both powers or creates something completely new." Emmett said.

Jacob stood and walked the book over to Jasper. "Thankfully, we will never know, and neither did Michael." He put the book in Jasper's hand. "You know what to do with this."

Jasper nodded.

"Just make sure that no one ever reads it again." Jacob looked around the room. "Are we all in agreement?"

"Yes," Bella said loudly.

The rest of them offered nonverbal affirmations and Jasper gave his big friend one last look of understanding before he put the book into a pocket.

"It will be forgotten," Jasper said after he tucked it away. "I promise."

"You should bury it," Jacob said.

* * *

Later that night, after Carlisle and Esme excused themselves for the cab ride home, Edward guided Jasper, Alice, Jacob and Rosalie along with Bella into Emmett's heavenly construction.

They were up in the top room of the tower. Rosalie had always called it the platform but since it had been offered to Benjamin as a nursery, they had began calling it the lookout.

Nothing had yet joined the piano in the space so there was plenty of room for them to all lay on the floor. They held hands, allowing Edward to find each one of them in turn and escort them to the meeting place inside Emmett's attic. They gathered around a closed white door.

"This will be safe and, I wager, fun for us all," Edward told them. "But I would like us to stay together."

"I prefer it that way," Alice offered. Her eyes were focused on the golden glow that scraped the floor underneath the door.

Edward continued, seeing that everyone shared Alice's sentiment. "If there is any trouble, I will wake you up from the outside."

"Does that mean you'll slap us?" Emmett asked through a laugh.

"Well, not you," Edward answered. "You can just open your eyes." Both men shared a laugh.

"But seriously," Emmett pressed. "Are you going to slap them then?"

Edward smiled around at his friends. "It won't come to that, I'm sure," he said with a small bow.

Emmett opened the door after he patted Edward on the back for being a good sport and the room was filled with pure warm light.

The group walked for miles together and went through a forest that looked like it was made entirely from glass. Edward started singing.

He watched the sound waves bounce from limb to limb in crystal fractals that created musical blue snowflakes in the branches.

The sun spilled into the thick trunks of the glass trees and the prism effect stamped tiny diamond shaped rainbows on everyone's clothes.

They were all wearing hospital gowns of course.

Alice was not thrilled with the drab fashion, but Jasper told her that he quite liked her that way.

After the forest, they drifted into a farmland that looked like it was growing a crop of stars. They all admired the light show as the vegetation twinkled and danced for them.

Jacob took Rosalie's hand. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. This is nice and the baby is on the move I think."

"Active tonight, is he?" Jacob asked.

"Active in here," she answered.

There was some kind of machine moving through the field. It was blue, as big as a house, and looked like it was pushing the stars deeper into the ground.

"That's called a stomper," Emmett told them.

"How do you know?" Jasper asked.

Emmett stuck out his bottom lip while he thought it over. "I just do. It's mine isn't it?"

They all laughed.

Edward had been worried that the humans would not be able to make the journey but they took to the fantastical world like the dreamers that they were.

The friends visited two more places before calling it a night. They walked through desert that was as green as Edward's eyes and took a boat across a purple lake that was rippled with white tipped waves.

"It's kind of color coated isn't it?" Jasper asked as he looked down at the hurried water.

"Actually," Emmett was, after all, the resident expert on such matters. "It is not usually so…coordinated. Is it Edward?"

Edward shook his head. He had spent more time in that universe than anyone besides Emmett and easily confirmed that it was different that time. "I noticed that it's windier here."

"I think I know what has happened," Emmett replied. "One of you projected your own vision of what it would look like."

Bella walked over to him. She had a vast knowledge of how guarded or unguarded a mind could be. "It would have to be a close connection for you to even allow it on a subconscious level."

"It was not subconscious," Emmett explained. "I knew it was not me. But I love it, don't you?"

Bella looked around at their surroundings. The boat they were on was traveling slowly enough for her to take in the detailed red mountains beginning to shuffle in around them. "It's amazing, but if it's not yours then whose is it?"

"More importantly," Jacob stepped up with Rosalie by his side. "How are you going to lead us back?"

"Don't worry about getting stuck here," Edward assured. "I promise that I can snap you all out of this, in fact…listen… a church bell is ringing in New York…can you hear it?"

Alice's face lit up. "I hear it! It's the one on 7th and…"

And she vanished.

"Oh, she's out," Edward said. "She's sitting up in the tower right now while we still appear to be sleep…"

Esme vanished.

Carlisle was alarmed.

"Relax," Edward instructed. "She woke up too. It's like a rooster waking you from a dream. They heard the church bells and followed them out. I use something sim…"

"I want out," Carlisle interrupted. He was not panicked, but Edward could see that he was suddenly desperate to leave.

Edward looked at Emmett. "Stay with them until the last one leaves. Keep them quiet."

He closed his eyes and vanished, but much slower than the others had. As soon as he was gone, Carlisle heard his name spoken loudly and felt his shoulder move involuntarily. When he opened his eyes a moment later, his son was smiling and moving away so Esme could step forward.

Edward easily roused Rosalie, Jasper and Jacob. Bella sat up on her own as he was speaking with his sister and he gave her a proud grin.

"How does everyone feel?" Edward asked.

No one answered directly.

"What happened in there?" Bella asked.

"Someone else was running the show," Emmett responded.

"Do you know who it was?" Rosalie asked.

Emmett looked her way. "Yes, I think I do."

"It was the breeze that made me realize." Rosalie said as she looked from Emmett to Jacob and then to Bella. "It was always just the right temperature and I've been so hot lately…"

"That was you?" Alice said. "It was stunning."

"Listen," Emmett looked down, "before we go much farther, I am having second thoughts about all this."

Edward's face drifted into a sorrowful mask of remorse. "We have taken advantage of you…"

"No." Emmett corrected him curtly. "It's just that I need to learn to get away from all that. It's been holding me back and taking more people in is…"

"Wrong," Bella finished.

"I just need time," Emmett said. "We still haven't used it to it's best potential."

"What's that?" Rosalie asked. She was still dazzled that her conjured vision of paradise had just appeared before her eyes and beneath her feet.

"Imagine what we would see if Alice had control of that place."

The possibility was quite something to consider.

* * *

The carriage was nearly complete but Jacob insisted that he did not want to take it with his new wife on their honeymoon.

"We're taking the train to Vermont," he told Edward and Bella as he showed them the newly designed vents. "Besides, you'll need it more than we will."

"You're right," Edward said, "We'll be busy while you're gone. What's that on the wheels?"

"Rubber," Jacob replied. "It was Rosalie's idea, she used it to seal the windows here in the theatre and reasoned that it would give everyone a smoother ride. Do you want to try it out?"

Jacob had already made the trade to a Friesian breeding farm upstate and his mares had been replaced with four geldings. They were green broke for carriage use but still novices who would benefit from Jacob's patient hand.

"It's ready then?" Bella went over to one of the midnight black four-year-old beginners and he put his nose into her hand.

"It will be in another hour," Jacob declared, scratching his head and looking on the ground for something, a tool perhaps. "I know it's already after sunset and not exactly the purpose of the thing but, would you two like to take the inaugural ride?"

"We'd love to!" Edward cheered. "Can we help you with anything?"

"Could you send Rosalie down?"

"She's in with Alice," Bella said. "It's veil day."

Both men nodded as if they understood the importance. "I just wanted to let her know in case she wanted to ride up on the bench with me."

"Well if we have an hour, why don't we go up and invite everyone." Edward suggested. "We'll leave you alone to work and come back when you're ready with the whole gang."

"It might not even take that long," Jacob said, smiling. "Now I'm all excited."

Bella and Edward left and Jacob began to whistle as he worked on a hinged footrest for the whip's bench, making sure that the rubber was still glued properly to the wheels. They would have to avoid puddles, but the real rainy season was a few weeks away yet.

Jacob had been given the names of the horses; Montgomery was the lead horse but Rosalie called him Monte. Hayden was the horse to his right and the two in back were Triton and Abe. They were not a rowdy bunch but they were alert and devilishly clever.

They had already managed to tip over some nearby wood in order to spill a bag of oats on the ground. The few morsels that landed close enough for them to reach were few compared with the mess they made.

Jacob completed his work quickly and harnessed the horses into place before anyone returned.

He took that opportunity to enjoy a red apple he had in a metal bucket near the elevator. Four sets of ears twitched at the sound and smell of his snack and he walked around to each one in turn and gave them each their own fruit.

He could tell that the horses were excited but nervous and did his best to show them that he was not going to be displeased with their efforts.

He had them pointed toward the arched exit even though there was enough room for them to turn completely around in the large round stable.

The noise of the elevator told Jacob that his friends were on their way, and as if that were not enough warning, Emmett and Alice dropped in from the chutes in the ceiling.

"Still not taking the elevator?" Jacob asked as he lowered the back door to let everyone in.

"It's a deathtrap," Alice grimaced. "I don't know how they can't see that."

Edward, Bella, Carlisle and Rosalie stepped from the lift. "Jasper is going to…"

Just then, Jasper dropped into the room. "I couldn't help myself," he said as he was the first to walk up the glass ramp and into the positively lavish carriage.

"Everybody in," Jacob called and they all obeyed like excitable children. Rosalie walked around front and climbed up to the bench. Jacob was not surprised.

"Where do you want to go?' He asked her as they moved slowly through the arch and onto 34th Street.

Rosalie smiled. "Do you have them?"

Jacob nodded.

"Good, then let's go to the Battery."

The tip of Manhattan Island used to be home to a great military fort and the Castle Gardens were a wonderful place to enjoy the outdoors. It was becoming more and more like Central Park because residents and tourists loved its beauty and gathered there for games and picnics.

It was mostly deserted at night, but well lit.

Jacob was happy to turn left on Ninth Avenue and take them all south.

Inside the carriage the world was as visible as if they were sitting on a flat wagon. The entire roof was curved glass and the rear door fit flawlessly in its locked position so that there was only a small crease on either side of it as someone looked behind them.

"Do you think they can see us?" Alice asked. They were certainly drawing stares from people on the street as well as people leaning out of their compartment windows.

"Not a chance," Carlisle answered. "I drove Jasper and Alice all the way to the Mississippi River and then to Georgia and I never once saw a time of day or light level that would let me see inside the roof of the other carriage."

"Did you spend a lot of time trying to look inside Carlisle?"Alice's question was playful but he blushed. He had been privy to her intimate sighs and moans as she made love to Jasper while they traveled and her question made him remember those quiet mornings when the young lady's passionate pleas were the bird's only competition.

"Heavens, no!" Carlisle quickly looked over at Esme, who was smiling and shaking her head at him at the same time. He recognized his wife's, 'what am I going to do with you' look.

It was always a beautiful look to behold and it was the only thing that would have distracted him from the city that was growing taller as they moved downtown. Still barely five or six stories tall, the buildings wereas tall as the next. It was almost like being on a river in a ravine.

The horseshoe shape of the bench in the new wagon made it easy for all of them to see each other's smiles. It was a fun trip to the Battery and when they got out Jacob reached into the storage space beneath the bench and produced a bat, a ball and a big pile of gloves.

* * *

Rosalie had even made four square rubber bases for the occasion one day after the boys came home energized from a game. The girls went with them two days later and the whole group was hooked on the sport after that.

Rosalie showed Jacob what she had made and he reciprocated by purchasing some gloves, a bat and three hand stitched balls.

"One thing I never got to thank Michael for," Jacob spoke as he positioned home plate facing the fading smear of orange sky, "was telling me to go see a game."

Alice was ecstatic as she looked over at Jasper. "Did you know about this?"

He shook his head with a dopey grin on his face. Rosalie went over to the bench and came back with gloves and began handing them out. It wasn't until she gave Jasper his that he answered Alice's ages old question. "No."

"We need to pick teams," Jacob stated.

"Boys against girls," Rosalie shouted.

Emmett began shaking his head. "No, no. That gives an unfair advantage to the men."

"Typical," Rosalie huffed.

Emmett huffed back. "I mean that there are two humans on the women's team and only one on ours. It's not fair."

"It's also not accurate, Emmett," Carlisle corrected. "Both teams have two humans - me and Jacob and Esme and Rosalie. The real issue is that the men outnumber the women."

"Here's what we'll do," Edward began. "Rosalie, you are a team captain and…Mother, you are the other captain." No one objected so Edward continued. "One of you picks first but the other one gets the last TWO players."

"I'll pick first!" Rosalie exclaimed.

"Go ahead, dear," Esme replied.

Rosalie looked over the group. Edward knew how competitive his sister was and assumed that she was seeking out the most coordinated of the group since none of them had any practice at the sport.

"Bella," Rosalie said at last. Edward was right, Rosalie was picking to win.

"Jacob,' Esme said quickly. She was playing to win as well and separating her opponent from Jacob might prove distracting. Edward chuckled at her logic. He was willing to wager it would prove distracting to both of them but the choice was made and Rosalie's scowl was proof enough that it might still be a sound strategy.

"Edward," Rosalie selected, knowing that having a pair of mind readers on her team would not hurt.

"Carlisle," Esme said warmly. Rosalie laughed and picked Emmett quickly, leaving Jasper and Alice to join her mother's team

"Let's each take a minute to talk as teams," Edward instructed. "And we'll flip a coin to decide who bats first."

The groups split up, Esme took her team over to a tall skinny orchard tree standing lone guard near the footpath. Rosalie went to the center of the diamond, where the pitcher would stand.

"Edward, you're pitching," Rosalie ordered. "Bella, you catch. Emmett, you play outfield and I will play infield."

Esme ran her team differently. "Oh boy this is going to be fun," Esme began. "When do I get to hit?"

Jasper took gentle control of the field assignments and Esme was thrilled to play catcher to Alice's pitches while he, Carlisle and Jacob fielded.

Edward produced a coin and flipped it with an expectant look at his sister.

"Heads," Rosalie called.

The coin was caught, flipped and displayed on Edward's cuff…heads.

Rosalie dropped her glove and strode towards home plate, determined to hit well.

"Before we begin, a word of warning," Jacob announced. "Hitting any balls into the water is an automatic out, so swing responsibly."

Rosalie batted first and swung at two low pitches before getting a piece of Alice's next lob, sending the ball dashing across the grass.

It got her to first base.

Edward was next and hit Rosalie in while getting himself to third.

Emmett hit a pop up and Jacob easily caught it.

Bella struck out and apologized to Rosalie.

When Rosalie got to bat again, she swung with all her might and hit the ball so hard that it would have easily been lost to the upper bay if Jasper had not leapt fifteen feet up to catch it.

It was counted as an out.

Edward hit well, as did Emmett but Bella struck out leaving Rosalie with two runners on base when she came to bat.

Alice pitched fast but Rosalie had learned what to avoid and was determined not to fall for her sinkers. She connected with a bullet pitch and the ball went sailing almost all the way to Staten Island.

She was counted as out and even though both Edward and Jasper crossed home plate, their runs were not counted much to the displeasure of Rosalie.

Esme's team joined her at home plate where she had been enjoying her time as catcher, but with the bat in her hand she was ready to do some damage.

Edward pitched easy to her, a mistake.

She hit a double and Edward's team booed him.

"Do that again and you're off the mound," Rosalie yelled at her brother.

Edward narrowed his eyes and struck out Jacob and Alice. Jasper fouled a few times before he limped over to first.

Esme had missed her chance and was still on second.

Carlisle was at bat and Edward mentally told Bella that he was going to pitch high. It worked for the first pitch but when he tried it again, Carlisle hit a doozey right along the third baseline and sent Esme and Jasper across the plate.

A few minutes later, he was hit in by his wife who closed her eyes and swung at a low fast pitch that went right between Edward's legs.

His team booed him again, but Rosalie was laughing far too hard to be angry.

They played three innings and everyone got in at least one good whack. Emmett hit their second ball into the water but bragged about the distance all the way home.

Rosalie's team won the game 6 to 5 and in the end it was Bella who, once she got the hang of it, could do no wrong where baseball was considered. Jacob was also very good.

Alice liked to pitch but was frustrated when wielding the bat. Jasper promised to give her private lessons.

Carlisle drove the team home so Rosalie and Jacob could ride in back and it was a very different experience in the rear of the wagon.

"It's so quiet back here," Jacob observed.

"That's the rubber," Rosalie told him. "I thought that it might reduce travel noise as a side effect."

"It is a smoother ride," Alice agreed. "I knew that before we even crossed Twenty- Fifth.

Edward loved it in the carriage, and he loved listening to his friends talk. He was proud of what they had accomplished and as he looked around at a city unaware he was deeply grateful to his friends for giving him back his purpose.

Bella defined him. It was not healthy and he knew it but she absolutely defined him. He admired her and strived to match her skill in music, her quest for literary knowledge and her compassion in all matters.

He was feeding off of Jacob's excitement as they rode side by side in the carriage with New York City as a hasty watercolor backdrop. Edward fed off of Jacob's excitement and smiled at his fiancé with grateful eyes.

The next two months were going to go by quickly.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Thank you for reading.**

**The poem is now complete and has been included as its own story entitled "Michael's Book" for anyone who would like to read it as a stand alone piece.**

**RandomCran also posted her new chapter of Restless today. It's only 4 chapters in and already more than halfway complete. Short and sweet, just like her. If you haven't read it you can find the link on my author's page.**

**See you soon with Chapter 25: Queen Elizabeth's Buttons.**

**MOG**


	25. Chapter 25: Queen Elizabeth's Buttons

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a Storm Trooper helmet. (Scout Trooper helmet to be more specific).**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

**Queen Elizabeth's Buttons**

Fall swept into Manhattan like bats pumping their wings against a strong wind. Leaves on the ground flirted in tight little pairings as Atlantic air made the nights crisp and the mornings quiet.

October felt so real that it spilled from the rooftops and hid in the basements of the island's damp buildings. Fog was not uncommon, but that year it seemed to announce every morning like a rooster.

Rosalie knew that everyone had been focused on Bella and Edward's wedding but never felt rushed to coordinate her own. For one thing, she planned a very small ceremony with at most fifteen people in attendance. It was not going to be the spectacle she had always imagined as a young girl, but she was strangely comforted by the intimacy it promised.

Jacob had been delighted to allow his fiance to take control of everything, but requested that they somehow incorporate water into the wedding somehow. Rosalie had not objected but had also had not come up with anything by the time _The Tempest_ closed. The final performance was a matinee and the cast party left the garden a mess but the stage was clean as a whistle.

Jacob and Rosalie played a game of chess at the party. It reminded them both of their trip to Versailles.

As they moved their playing pieces, the couple discussed several projects Rosalie had in mind, including putting the spring board into full production and pursuing the electric battery industry. Both were open minded but knew that they had to pick the most fulfilling and profitable endeavors.

She had over a dozen drawings from Alice already that showed her holding some strange contraptions and, in one case, a handsome young Benjamin sitting atop what looked like a miniature locomotive.

Jacob made a devilishly good move with his bishop but Rosalie had been leading him into a trap and took his piece while putting his King in check.

"Is there any way out of this?" Jacob asked while looking down at the large game board he stood on.

Rosalie studied his Knight and his King. His Queen had already been taken, which was the beginning of his downfall.

"There is one move that can get you away."

Jacob stepped his King out of immediate danger.

"That wasn't it." Rosalie put him in check again.

Jacob finally saw it, he had two more retreats and then it was over. He tipped his King over and eyed Esme who was walking nearby with a tray of food.

Rosalie followed his gaze. "There's something with caramel in it," she told him. "And little bundles of tuna wrapped in cabbage leaves."

"She still made truffles didn't she?" Jacob had a genuine look of concern on his face.

"They're cooling in the green room," Rosalie confirmed with a smirk. "We should actually go get them for her."

Jacob's eyes lit up.

"You can have...one," Rosalie instructed him.

The two of them spoke with a few actors before going on their way into the theatre. They asked Carlisle to convey the message to Esme that they had gone for the truffle tray.

While in the elevator, Rosalie told Jacob that she was having trouble coming up with a way to include water in their wedding without it looking out of place.

"I know that it's significant to you," she said as her small hand crept into his large warm paw. "And I know that you don't even know why yet, but the wedding must have a certain flow."

Jacob snickered at the unintentional pun but recovered quickly enough to open the elevator door for her when the machine lowered them to the lobby level.

As they strolled through the large room, Rosalie couldn't help but think back to the last time she had been there, not an hour before. The main floor, as well as both mezzanines, had been filled with friendly faces and clapping hands while Edward drew their attention to the artist behind what was the most creative advertising campaign the city had ever seen.

Emmett did not know that he was a celebrity, but Edward suspected it on opening night when their unknown theatre produced a well known Shakespeare play to a sellout audience. Excitement had only grown each weekend of the run.

Emmett had captured the city's attention, so that all Edward had to do was raise his voice from the highly visible front door area and introduce Emmett McCarty to the crowd. They knew exactly who he was.

Rosalie and Jacob had been exiting their private box on the second level where they had watched the entire play with their fingers laced together in the dark.

The room was a riot of noise and she had remembered worrying about her baby brother even though he had initiated the uproar.

Now as they walked into the auditorium, it was silent, reverent. Jacob had been thinking about the wedding.

"Can we be baptized together?" he inquired at last.

Rosalie liked the idea but was unsure of protocol.

They took up the truffles and the next day Rosalie posed the question to Father Steven, a humor filled middle aged fellow with a square brown beard and no problems conducting a wedding on a Tuesday night.

He told her that even though she had already been baptized in a good Catholic Parisian household, she was welcome to recommit her service to God and accompany Jacob in a baptism before they recited their vows.

Rosalie chose vows from the Common Book of Prayer. Where she loved extravagance in presentation, she preferred simple and succinctness in all things administrative.

As a result, she was going to drape lace over each pew despite the exclusivity of the event, and despite the fact that it was going to last exactly five minutes longer than the Minister's opening remarks.

Jacob smiled his way through the planning stage and was a diligent worker during what was called "Toot Sweet Week" by all the girls. Each of them was given a very difficult task the week ending on Saturday,October 29th. Alice was in charge of getting all the men outfitted in matching wool suits that would give them the old fashioned look Rosalie wanted.

She had already finished with Rosalie's dress, which was a chore in and of itself. She made the gown with Egyptian cotton and had gotten quite good with the sewing machine she had gotten for Christmas the year before. Not only was the dress beautiful, but it was a downright sturdy little thing.

The slender dress was champagne in color and Rosalie resembled a golden statue in a Versailles Palace fountain when she tried it on for the first time.

Bella was in charge of candles and flowers. She chose, with Rosalie's blessing, tall skinny white tapers and big seasonal Bachelor's buttons. They were big round blue flowers that had enough height to make for lovely arrangements when mixed with tiny white foxgloves.

Esme was in charge of the reception, which would be a nice dinner for just the few guests. Rosalie liked the Idea of hosting the meal in the theatre but did not want it to be yet another get together in the garden.

Esme suggested one of the large resident wings instead. One night when Rosalie could not sleep, she watched Jacob for a bit before going up to the top floor of the tower where she stood above the ever stirring city.

Jacob had decided to build Redwood furniture for the nursery but would not have the room ready until well after Christmas. The room was still big and bare, with the exception of the square grand piano.

Rosalie pictured all of them dancing on top of the city while her brother played songs on the instrument and knew that she wanted to throw a party in the lookout before it was employed to shelter their son.

She told Esme, Alice and Bella about her idea and all four women spent an hour up there deciding where they would have the men move tables and chairs to.

Alice also suggested window treatments.

"You are far too busy for that," Rosalie determined. "I know you need help with the pew dressings as it is."

"I was going to lend a hand with this room," Bella volunteered. "I think I could use them to dress the pews in Trinity as well, if you don't mind."

"That would be wonderful," Rosalie said. "It would be a nice connection between the two, but all the more reason not to add window treatments."

"Nonsense," Alice replied cheerily. "All I have to do is make one and ask Emmett to copy it a dozen times."

The statement took mother and daughter by surprise. "Emmett sews?" Rosalie's voice was high with humor.

"He got tired of waiting for Bella to get done with the typewriter the other night and I told him to play with my sewing machine instead. He took to it like a duck to water."

"That's so adorable," Esme smiled with her hands clutched to her chest. "How is his work?"

"He was a surgeon," Alice pointed out. "He was is twice as good as me. Works fast too."

They all laughed. Bella knew that she had been hogging the typewriter to write her story about a crime solving woman named Rosalie, but had no idea that she had driven Emmett to such pursuits.

"Alright, then," Rosalie said. "See if he'll do it."

"He'll do it," Esme predicted. "Emmett's a good boy."

* * *

On the morning of November 1st, Jacob woke up to an empty bed. His bride-to-be rose early to observe the tradition that he not observe her until the moment she was presented at the top of the church aisle.

Rosalie was in the south residence wing. Jasper was relegated to Edward and Bella's room, and Bella was over with Alice and Rosalie.

Esme was on her way from their house located next to Central Park. Carlisle had been instructed to rise early and drive her into mid-town by seven o'clock and he was ten minutes early.

Jacob looked at the irregular shapes made by the sun's light as it sprayed the walls through windows that circled the room like a halo. He could hear nothing, not even his heartbeat. And that, he knew, would still take some getting used to.

He nearly had a panic attack the first time he realized that he couldn't hear the rhythm that had accompanied him for almost half a millennium. Now, he was in the habit of putting his hand to his chest to feel the movement beneath.

Jacob did enjoy sleeping and he never remembered his dreams. He liked that too. When he sat up that autumn morning, the sheets fell from his chest and the cool morning air that stirred in such a stone building brushed against the tender new skin that grew on his back.

His door shook with a powerful knock mere seconds before it was opened by Emmett, who strolled in with a smile almost as wide as the bundle of fabric he was carrying.

"Twelve hours of freedom left!" He announced as Jacob rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Good morning, Emmett. Have you been given your marching orders?"

Emmett sat on the bed while his friend rose and began putting his clothes on. "Alice said that Rosalie said that we need to hang these window treatments..." Emmett set the lacy fabric down next to him. "Then we need to bring up five tables and fifteen chairs from the lounge."

"Hold on!" They both heard Edward's voice spring up from the stone spiral staircase. A moment later, he appeared with a round bistro table held out in front of him like a wet dog. It was the only way he could get it up the stairs without scraping it on anything.

"I'll take care of the tables and chairs." Edward was moving so fast that he delivered his sentence from three different rooms.

"Thank you," Jacob called up.

"Just keep everything away from the windows for the time being please," Emmett instructed.

Edward stopped in Jacob's room to confirm that he had heard Emmett's request and to shake the hand of the man who would marry his sister. "I'll keep everything in the middle of the room and then I'll give you two gents a hand." He was gone in a wink.

Emmett left Jacob to his morning duties and climbed up to the lookout. He began by hanging a ruffled and hemmed valence above an east window. He stood on the sturdy square stool that spent most of its time hiding under the oblong piano and affixed the fabric to the stone walls by using tacky balls of light gray putty. Rosalie had given them to Emmett with the boast that the material would hold up to four pounds.

Edward brought up the rest of the tables and was starting on the chairs by the time Jacob stepped into the room. He immediately identified the putty as Strong Seeds.

"Is that what she calls them?" Emmett asked.

"It's what I call them," he said as he picked up one of the many little globes Emmett had set on the piano.

"Rosalie wants to call them Sticky Balls, but I think you can understand why that won't work."

Edward came into the room chuckling. "Bella said that Rosalie ran the name by her and she laughed so hard her hair bun fell out."

"You can't deny it has a nice ring to it," Emmett commented. "Sticky Balls, the name might...stick."

It was not very long before the three of them were arranging the tables and chairs beneath the newly dressed windows and Emmett fussed with a loose thread on one of the treatments as they all went back downstairs.

Bella met them in Jacob's bedroom and informed them that Rosalie had taken up residence in the gigantic bathroom below. "You'll have to use the elevator," she told them unapologetically. She flashed Edward a smile before returning to the murmur below her.

Emmett smiled. He rather liked the elevator and could not believe that he was once frightened to ride in it. He led his friends to the corner room and pressed the call button.

The elevator carried Alice, who was looking for Jasper.

"We haven't seen him," Edward told her. He then closed his eyes and listened for his friend. "He's with Carlisle...on stage...where you told them to wait for you."

Alice smiled with her whole body, dancing a like a happy child. "What good boys!" She then eyed the trio of men. "And where are you all going?"

"We were just..." Edward began.

"Come with me," Alice ordered as she stepped back into the elevator. "We might as well get all your final fittings done at once."

Within six minutes, Alice was sitting in a wooden chair on the stage with a straight pin in her mouth and five men in various stages of undress all around her.

She was professional of course, but her situation did not go unnoticed and her spicy imagination gave her great mental pulp which she hurriedly and repeatedly hid from Edward.

She was always too late. Edward was treated to a parade of scenarios that would make a Navy man blush and received quite an education from the adventurous young lady.

It was a strange thrill being naked on stage. Edward knew that at times there would be almost a thousand souls in the auditorium, but hopping in and out of trousers with a few friends on his sister's wedding day seemed like the natural thing to do.

Occasionally, one of them would nearly topple over while pulling on his pants, breaking any notion of grace or poetry to their movements, or their conversation for that matter.

"Did you guys see that dead bird stuck in the telephone wires on Ninth and Nineteenth?" Jasper asked the group. Alice did not answer, she had been with him and had unfortunately seen far more of it than she had ever cared for. What she did not see was the reason to discuss it further, but Jasper was a macabre being and that's what she liked about him.

"I heard it happen," Edward said. "Well, I heard people reacting to it. I was on Seventh and Twenty Fifth. By the time I got there, it was over but still sizzling."

"That's going to start a fire someday," Carlisle observed. "They will need to insulate those lines or better yet, bury them. Run them along the subway tracks as they dig."

Edward thought it was a brilliant idea and wondered if he would ever see it happen.

"Why do we have buttons on our sleeves?" Emmett asked as he examined two small black adornments to each jacket cuff.

"They're Queen Elizabeth's buttons," Alice replied.

Jasper gave her a quizzical look that was funny alone, but coupled with the fact that he was wearing only black socks made her sputter laughter.

"I'm glad she didn't laugh like that when I was undressed," Edward muttered, earning the first real round of laughter for the large empty room.

Jasper, to his credit, and Alice's delight, remained in his exposed state until he located his entire outfit including his tie, which he put on first.

Alice told them her favorite of many stories she knew about her personal hero Queen Elizabeth I. "Queen Elizabeth was a no nonsense woman," she began. "She was painfully aware that half the country did not want her on the throne and to make matters worse, she was a woman, an unwed woman. She became one of the most beloved monarchs by the time she died of course, but she made her mark on men's fashion very early on."

Alice had found some lovely ebony buttons and was replacing the last one on Jacob's shirt. "She noticed that men on the street were constantly wiping their noses on their sleeves. Even at court she would have to witness all manor of stiff sleeved slobs use their clothing like handkerchiefs, which apparently, no one in bloody England owned at that time. Finally, she had had enough, some Duke of sorts insisted on kissing her ring, like the Pope for God's sake, and his damp sleeve came into contact with her arm. She put many seamstresses to work sewing jackets required for all men to wear at court. They were fine warm garments made in many different colors and sizes, and each one had a row of buttons up the sleeve so the men had nothing to wipe their noses on."

All the men had stopped moving, staring at the storyteller in disbelief.

Alice looked around. "It's true. We've simply continued the tradition because it weighs the sleeve down nicely and looks good."

Emmett dropped his shoes to the stage floor. His mouth was open. "That," he said slowly and earnestly, "is the most fascinating thing I have ever heard in my entire life."

* * *

Rosalie had finally gotten a chance to see a mechanical carriage up close and although she appreciated the concept, she preferred to be out of the weather. She enjoyed the comfort of the glass top chariot that took her to her groom on the evening of November 1st.

Since Jacob was not allowed to see Rosalie before the wedding beforehand, the wedding party traveled to the church in two groups. Edward drove the horses both times, sharing an easy relationship with the young Geldings.

Montgomery was smart and Edward told him so. He also taught him several tricks including balancing an apple on one raised knee before eating it.

The men arrived at the church first and they brought the flowers and candles with them. Bella had given Edward explicit instructions on how to display everything before deciding to go to the church with the first group.

Alice had also decided that it would be best if she got there early, thereby giving Rosalie and her mother some privacy when they made the trip over to Saint Patrick's Cathedral.

"Are you nervous?" Esme asked.

"No, I'm excited actually."

"Where is he taking you on your honeymoon?"

"He won't say, but he told me to pack for cold weather."

Esme nodded her head. "Edward is taking you both to the train station at midnight. He told me last night."

"I knew that too," Rosalie replied. "And I know we're getting off later in Vermont, but I have a feeling that there's more to it than that."

"There always is with men like him. He's just like your father."

"Oh mother, that's disgusting!" Rosalie turned to her mother in shock.

"Relax dear," Esme said while swatting at her chuckle in hopes that it would go away faster. "There is nothing wrong with choosing a man who embodies the same characteristics of your loving and romantic father."

Rosalie sulked. She understood her mother's point but the observation was untimely at worst.

Esme changed the subject. "Will you need me to take care of anything while you're away?"

"Everything is taken care of as far as the business goes. Garrett is going to set up a few meetings with some metal smiths and Edward is going to watch the mail for a return letter from Thomas Edison. He and Jacob have apparently been collaborating again. Just worry about Bella's wedding and I will be back in time to do my part. Jacob promised."

"As a matter of fact, he promised me specifically that you two would be back for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Is that right?"

"Oh, yes," Esme answered. "I am hosting it in my own house and it's about time. I will be having you all over in about three weeks' time."

"We'll be there."

The stars were bright but the city was brighter and Edward enjoyed the ride. The evening breeze pushed his hair from his forehead.

He saw Carlisle waiting next to the church and pulled up just as the bell began ringing.

"Nice touch," Edward remarked.

Carlisle smiled as he lowered the back door for the ladies.

"Oh, they're ringing the bell," Esme spoke with excitement.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle asked his lovely daughter.

Rosalie responded by quietly placing the delicate veil on her head.

* * *

Saint Patrick's was brighter than Notre Dame, even at night. It was a warm and open sanctuary with very round arches that made the ceiling appear like ornate caves.

Jacob stood much taller than the two men next to him. He, Edward and Jasper stood at the bottom of the wide steps that led up to the altar.

Rosalie, Bella and Alice, came into the candlelit room like butterflies. There was no sound and then suddenly, there they were; three delicate and beautiful things. They were tiny at a distance and the wonder in Jacob's eyes turned the heads of those gathered to witness and celebrate the event.

Boston, Lawrence and Sean were on one side of the aisle, each sporting a pocket watch bigger than the one next to it. On the other side, the rest of the friendly vampires were focused on less pedestrian accessories. They were among the newly converted to the suspender-less breeches and would be the first to remove their jackets at that night's reception to show off how nicely their shirts bloused.

Father Steven stepped out just as the organ began playing a selection from Handel's _Water Suite_. It was something Bella had suggested as a perfect processional when she found out that the ceremony would include a baptismal.

The piece itself was called _Air_ and it rang through the eternal sanctuary like a hymn.

Carlisle and Rosalie were at the head of the line instead of the back. They walked with practiced deliverance but, per his daughter's request, did not dilly dally either. They made it up the aisle in a respectable time and the bride couldn't take her eyes off of the groom.

Likewise, Jacob was transfixed by his approaching love. He loved how all of her hair had been swept up and tied with what looked to him like flowers, lilies. Her neck was sleek, feminine, and lightly brushed with lightly blushed skin.

Her champagne dress cascaded all the way to the floor and made Rosalie look like she was gliding up the aisle with the guidance of her father, who was dressed in a black evening jacket with short tails, matching crisp black trousers, also suspender-less, and shoes as shiny as a puddle of water on a sunny day.

They walked all the way up to the men and Emmett, who had been escorting the mother of the bride up the aisle, sat them both next to a space left by Boston. Bella and Alice took their place opposite the men and Father Steven spoke.

"We are gathered here tonight in this holy place to witness the union of this man and this woman. They have professed their eternal love for each other and wish to be legally bound, sharing in all of life's future surprises." He took a moment to regard the couple before him. Jacob was eager and focused, his hair was still quite short but thick and dark. Rosalie was smiling and calm, her cheeks were red and her eyes were wet.

"The two of you have come to this church seeking not only God's blessing on your marriage, but in your lives, so we will begin with the sacrament of baptism."

Jacob was first and Father Steven led him to a large brass basin that sat in front of the altar. The priest instructed Jacob to lean forward over the basin until he could see his entire reflection in the water.

Jacob looked into the deep mirror as Father Steven read from the Book of John.

"Jesus answered and said to him: Amen, unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus said to him: How can a man be born when he is old? Jesus answered: Amen, unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God."

The priest then used his own hands to scoop water up and released it over Jacob's head several times. His image became distorted but the first drops to disturb the water had come from Jacob's eyes. He was, after all, recently born again in a real way and wished to live a virtuous human life.

Jacob was given a towel as Alice helped Rosalie remove her veil.

She leaned over the water, just as Jacob had done. Father Steven had not known about her pregnancy, and she would not be showing for another month, but his choice of Bible verses was hauntingly appropriate as he read from the Book of Acts.

"But Peter said to them: Do penance: and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of your sins. And you shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. For the promise is to you and to your children and to all that are far off, whomsoever the Lord our God shall call."

Again, he used his hands to scoop up holy water and it found its way back to the basin through the hair and spirit of the woman standing over it.

She was given a towel as well and fussed with her hair for only a minute before looking expectantly at the priest.

He began the vow exchange by asking the couple to face one another and take hands. Then he asked Jacob to repeat his words. His promise to her was made with an increasingly thick voice.

"I, Jacob, take you Rosalie, to be my wife, and in doing so, commit my life to you, encompassing all sorrows and joys, all hardships and triumphs, all the experiences of life; a commitment made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and eternally made new."

Jacob was just happy to make it all the way through without crying.

Jasper leaned over to Edward and whispered. "They ask the groom first in case he tries to make a run for it."

Emmett chuckled from his pew.

Father Steven then asked Rosalie to repeat the words and she did so with a power and commitment that impressed those present.

"I, Rosalie, take you Jacob, to be my husband, and in doing so, commit my life to you, encompassing all sorrows and joys, all hardships and triumphs, all the experiences of life; a commitment made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and eternally made new."

The ring portion of the ceremony went quickly and they were reminded by Father Steven that the reason wedding rings were worn on the left hand was because the heart pumped blood to the left arm first. Furthermore, the priest informed them, the biggest vein in the hand ended just below the ring finger. This meant that a wedding ring was as close to the human heart as it could get.

When Jacob was invited to kiss his new bride, he swept her into his arms and kissed her so long that Father Steven finally cleared his throat. When they split apart he announced them as lawfully wed and challenged any but God to say otherwise.

He presented them as Jacob and Rosalie Black and the applause filled the church tremendously, considering that there were so few people in the vast bright chamber.

When the organist began playing _Air_, once again, Edward glanced up as he took Bella's arm and led her down the aisle. The orchid pink sound waves were actually appeared more like bubbles that sprang from the silver pipes.

Edward caught his sister's eye as she passed him, she looked right at him actually, and he did not have to read her mind to know that she was happier than she had ever been.

* * *

Father Steven was invited to the reception and surprised everyone by agreeing to attend. It was already understood that blood would be consumed privately anytime human visitors came to the theatre. Even in a flask, as Jasper had suggested, the bright red lips were a dead giveaway.

Emmett wore a top hat that was ringed with the same material as the window dressings he made. All the men looked wonderful in their evening jackets but the women had all chosen very modern dresses that showed off their curves as well as their skin.

Esme, the oldest in human years, was so stunning that she could have been the one tossing the bouquet, underhanded, directly to Bella.

Carlisle knew how beautiful his wife looked and kissed her by the piano when he got a moment.

Edward was playing something original, it sounded like happiness and when Bella sat down next to him, minds and fingers worked together to compose and then immediately expose every nuance of the organic music.

Jacob started dancing with Rosalie and everyone, including the occasional glance from either Edward or Bella, watched them share the first of what would certainly be a thousand dances together as husband and wife.

As Edward and Bella grew more in tune with each other's playing, the song grew into something more complicated and before long it became a spectacle that even the musically disinclined, like Sam and Lawrence, gaped at.

They ended together and graciously accepted the applause of their friends and family, but Bella rose from the bench and did not play again with Edward that night. It was not their intention to detract from the elevated celebration.

They would surely pursue the newly discovered product of their mutual skill and mental connection. Edward was particularly excited and kept telling Bella mentally all the different things he had learned just in the short time playing with her like that.

He even cursed himself for not having done it sooner during his entire rendition of Robert Schumann's _Carnival_.

"So, are you ever going to tell us where you are taking Rosalie on your honeymoon?" Emmett asked loudly after Edward had finished playing and after offering the newlyweds some sliced strawberry and provolone on crisp dark crackers.

Jacob looked at Rosalie.

"I would love to find out," she stated. "But if it spoils your surprise..."

"Your surprise," Jacob corrected gently. "And if you want to know now, I would be happy to tell you."

"Yes!" Alice answered for her. "She wants to know!"

Jacob chuckled with the rest of the group. "There is an island on the Vermont side of Lake Champlain called Knight Island and we will be spending our time there."

"Will we be taking a boat or a sled?" Rosalie wondered if the lake would be frozen over.

Jacob's laugh filled the room like thunder. "We will be taking a train," was the only answer she received.

The round room above the city was filled with love and happiness that night, and was thereby christened well as a place where an infant should form his first dreams.

Carlisle and Esme ended their evening out in the garden while nearly everyone else accompanied Jacob and Rosalie to the train station at midnight. They hooted and hollered so much that the human couple could hear them from the west facing swing.

"He's going to take good care of her," Carlisle murmured.

"Yes, he is," Esme answered, almost sleepily. She was nuzzled under her soul mate's arm. "He's going to take good care of both of them."

"Thank God we don't have to anymore," Carlisle joked.

Esme responded wisely. "I have a feeling that our job is just beginning."

He was horrified at first but soon a smile settled on his face. He would hate to miss out on seeing his grandchild grow up.

"One down..one to go," he said after a while.

Carlisle and Esme fell asleep in each other's arms, and when Bella and Edward discovered them a while later, they used their own bedspread to cover the loving couple.

New York City held them like that until the sun rose and a river breeze tickled their eyelids.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I would like to thank Ishouldntbehere once again for her heard work, serving as my last line of defense before I post. You wouldn't believe the goofy stuff she catches.**

**My thoughts and prayers are with all of you on the US East coast this weekend. I hope your power stayed on long enough to get to this note.**

**MOG**


	26. Chapter 26: Queen Victoria's Dress

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear wrote his name on the back on his underwear until eighth grade.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

**Queen Victoria's Dress**

By the time Jacob and Rosalie had returned to New York City, ice was clinging to the tree branches in the parks and pulling on the telephone lines so that they dipped with extra weight.

Rosalie had a developed a small round mound on her belly in the three weeks they were gone and everyone touched it at least once.

"How was Knight Island?" Bella asked as she grabbed a bag from the late evening cab that dropped off the shivering couple.

"It was cold," Rosalie answered. "But not as cold as this."

Once they were back inside the theatre and changed clothes, the newlyweds met the others in the lobby lounge for assorted beverages, including coffee, and one of Emmett's new concoctions - Hot Blooded American. It was a mix of pig blood and Kentucky whiskey. He served it warm with a long wooden match stick to stir it with.

Rosalie appeared in a big fluffy bathrobe that had been a wedding gift from Jasper and Alice. Jacob was encouraged to wear his but he was too bashful. Instead, he showed up in fresh olive colored trousers and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Tell us about your trip," Esme said as she poured her daughter some tea.

"Well, first of all the train ride was amazing," Rosalie began. "We had our own compartment and slept very well considering that we rocked back and forth worse than any steam ship coming over the Atlantic Ocean."

Alice smiled. She had a feeling that the rocking was not all from the train's movement, but kept the thought to herself.

"The train had the most fabulous dining car and we had breakfast as we passed through Pleasant Valley and ate lunch in Pleasant Plains," Jacob told them. "It's beautiful countryside up there."

"We slept through Albany," Rosalie continued. "And the train stopped in Saratoga Springs for an hour the next morning. We had a nice walk around town and were eating lunch in Glens Falls by one o'clock."

"The dining car had windows on the ceiling like our carriage," Jacob added.

Rosalie smiled. Jacob was very taken with the dining car and more than once she had accused him of choosing the trip based on that alone. "We ended up between Lake George and Lake Champlain later that night and when we woke up we were at Saint Alban's Bay."

"We took a boat to Burton Island to pick up some supplies," Jacob supplied. "And then went on to Knight Island from there."

"The lake looked like a blue mirror," Rosalie described. "It was chilly, but very calm. We arrived at Knight Island and found he most darling little cottage just inside the treeling. It had miles of white beach on both sides." Rosalie paused, remembering what they did as soon as they got inside the tidy beach house. "Jacob did all the cooking too," she offered.

The ladies practically swooned.

"How big is the island?" Edward asked.

"About a mile long," Jacob replied. "Maybe half a mile wide."

"We could walk around the whole island in less than an hour," Rosalie told them. "We did that every morning we were there."

Bella raised her eyebrow. "When weren't you there?"

"Jacob took me up to Montreal for a few nights before we came home," Rosalie answered proudly. "We stayed in Dorchester Square and it was like being back in Paris again."

"Do they actually speak French there?" Emmett asked.

"Oh yes," Rosalie said. "Everywhere."

"Did you see any of the museums?" Carlisle asked.

Rosalie looked down. "Um, no."

"Did you see the indoor city?" Jasper asked.

"No."

"What about Olympic Park?" Carlisle tried again. "Surely you went there."

Rosalie shook her head.

"What did you see?" Edward asked.

Rosalie thought for a moment. "We saw Windsor Train Station."

Jacob cleared his throat. "I surprised Rosalie with several introductions to Canadian importers and retailers. We visited their magnificent train station as we pulled in of course, but I took her directly over to one of Henry Morgan's stores."

"It was amazing," Rosalie told them. "They liked every one of my ideas and were thrilled that I wasn't even asking for seed money, just shelf space."

"So...it was a business trip?" Alice sounded disappointed.

"It was definitely a honeymoon," Rosalie corrected quickly. "But what better time to make investments in our future?" She placed both hands lovingly over her stomach. "Montreal was the best part in many ways."

Jacob smiled. He knew his wife well and was not surprised to see that with simple explanations and confident proposals, she was able to partner with the North's biggest outlet chain. He had snuck several of her prototypes in with his luggage and produced them before the meeting much to her profound delight.

She had discussed several of her ideas with the Morgan men and was met with nothing but encouragement and enthusiastic questions. They were most interested in her design for a cage that would safely trap animals and could be reset immediately.

They were also quite taken with her new design for a pocket watch that could be worn on the wrist and her sturdy new take on horse locks. She had gotten the idea when she and Jacob had become Lovelocked on the _Pont Des Arts_ in Paris. The fact that Montreal reminded her of the city of her birth was the only reason she even brought it up.

She had been offered orders on two of her inventions and received heavy interest in two others. But it meant a busy winter and spring for the Black family.

Edward could hear Rosalie thinking about it and had gotten enough information to know that she had been holding something back.

"What did you sell to them?" he asked her.

"Traps!" she blurted out. "Ten thousand of them! And locks! They want two thousand of those!"

"That reminds me," Edward said. "Jacob, there is a letter from Mr. Edison for you in the library."

"I'll get it." Emmett was nearest the stairs and was already up them when Jacob gave his thanks.

"Are you and Jacob going to make all those things yourselves?" Esme asked.

"More or less," Rosalie replied. "We will give Garret some business making wire grids for the cages and will have to have at least one other person to help assembling locks but yes, we will be doing it all right downstairs. I hope to be finished by the time Ben is born."

Emmett was back with the letter which contained gentle greetings, congratulations on his nuptials, and another invitation to visit Mr. Edison in Florida.

"By the time we complete our Henry Morgan order, he'll be back in New York," Jacob said to Rosalie after she read the letter for herself. "We'll have him over for dinner."

Rosalie nodded. A meeting with him was long overdue. "That's enough about us," she concluded. "Now, tell me where we are with next week's wedding."

* * *

Edward and Bella were married on a Thursday night.

Trinity Church was located downtown, nestled amongst the biggest buildings in the city, but dwarfing them all. It was lit up inside and out with hundreds of oil lamps and the mere sight of it drew a crowd, which Edward and Bella promptly invited into the church.

They stood together at the front doors and greeted those who walked through them with warm smiles and cold handshakes. They welcomed everyone, from vampires who lived above the park, to actors from the play, and dozens of men who had worked on the theatre's construction with the Cullen family.

They decided to have a public life during what Jasper assured them all was a very exciting time in the world, but Bella always stressed that the decision meant an eventual exodus from the city. But that was decades away and so they held a lavish and very open celebration. They even had Emmett write a public invitation, which they published only in the Times.

They didn't need a circus, just a modest attendance.

They got both.

Plenty of people who had seen _The Tempest_ came to congratulate the gorgeous couple. The lamps that Emmett and Jasper had collected for the past month made the mountainous sharp steeple visible from one end of the island to the other.

Their wedding took place at midnight, giving Bella plenty of time to fly around and hang the lamps from the multitude of stone ornamentation. She liked having things start at midnight. It was, after all, the beginning of a brand new day.

She decorated the church like a Christmas tree but gave herself enough time to change from the dark clothes she wore for the job into her wedding dress.

Her new sister-in-law was there with Alice to help her put on her pretty white medieval gown with a Damask pattern of black acanthus leaves hiding in deep pleats. They sent her out to stand with Edward at the church entrance only one minute late, where they spent the next half hour welcoming New York to their wedding.

_I met the Queen once, did I tell you? _Bella thought to Edward as he hugged a teenage girl who ran away giggling without even going into the church.

_Queen Victoria!_ Edward had not known that at all.

_Yes, she came to one of my shows at the Theatre de la Nuit. _

_What was she like?_

_She was pleasant. Quite old even then, but she shook my hand harder than Boston just did._

Edward was impressed.

_She's the reason I chose the color white for my dress._

_Really?_

_Yes, she wore one on her first wedding day and since then I've noticed a lot of women doing the same._

_What did they wear before?_

_All sorts of colors, Yellow is the color of joy. I saw that a lot as a girl, and blue too._

_I like you in that dress, you look __**…**__ old fashioned._

Bella smiled at Edward, and then they were both surprised by Captain "Diamond Beard" Caussin. He had seen the public invitation and the short distance to the church from his docked ship.

His handshake was even harder and colder than Boston's, but Bella smiled and pulled him into a hug.

"I hope you can make it to our reception," Edward encouraged. "It's at St. John's Park in Tribeca."

"Why didn't you just get married at St. John's church right next to the park?"

Edward turned his friend around to see the crowd from the top of the steps. "It wasn't big enough," he responded with a smile.

_Besides, _Bella thought as the captain went inside, _Trinity reminds me of the churches and abbeys of my time as a girl in England._

As it turned out, the Captain was not the biggest surprise guest. Laurent stepped up a few moments later and Bella shouted with glee. They spoke only for a moment, but he was absolutely going to be at St. John's Park and gratefully took them up on their offer to put him up for as long as he wanted to stay in the country.

When everyone had entered the church, Edward kissed Bella lightly on the cheek and dashed inside. A moment later, Jacob appeared.

"Here we go," he announced tenderly.

Bella had always intended to have Jacob walk her down the aisle and give her away to Edward. Had circumstances been different, perhaps it would have been Michael. The thought gave her a chill as she clung to her friend's big warm arm.

The sanctuary was narrow and dark beams of wood criss-crossed far above the pews, turning the ceiling into a garden of geometric shapes. Edward stood at the top of four steps and in front of the pine altar. Above him and an elderly bent over priest, stained glass windows filled the entire wall. The display was easily fifty feet tall and almost as wide. There were over a dozen individual windows and together they made a colored monolith that, thanks to the lanterns outside, was as bright as the dawn.

There were stained glass windows on every wall of the cross shaped holy room, each of them gigantic and each of them with light pushing their holy images into the sanctuary.

When Bella came gliding up the marble aisle, Edward remembered the first time he saw her, gliding out on stage in Paris. It had been just after midnight then as well.

He had been a virgin then. Certainly that and more. Sheltered, despite his education, and naive to boot. His path had taken an unexpected turn on the night he met Bella, and that fork in the road split again a few months later when he was recreated by her as a vampire.

Lover and mother, he knew at least one University of Vienna graduate who would have a lot to say on that subject.

As they got closer, Edward grinned at the sight of Jacob's ever wide and ever white smile. Bella looked focused. It was an expression Edward usually only saw on her face when they were making love. Suddenly, he was very glad that he couldn't blush.

Bella was listening to his thoughts and put a small hand to her mouth to stifle a dainty giggle. In that moment, Edward felt that newness and renewal could be reacquired at will by a heart that was willing **to** wash itself clean on occasion.

His eyes welled up before Bella reached the first step.

Bella let go of Jacob's arm and he let it fall to his side. As he turned to take his seat, Bella took his hand and communicated something to Jacob with her eyes. Edward let the moment stay between them and allowed the ocean of thought coming from the guests swell in his mind.

Bella climbed the steps alone, her symbolic journey from one world to the other. She had been alone for so long and the idea that she was about to marry her eternal lover was the most precious dream come true. The excitement itched but when she took his hand and they faced the heavy lidded priest, she was delivered a divine calmness and peace. She closed her eyes and gave thanks.

Father Albert was not happy about conducting a wedding at midnight, but he was no fool either and accepted his generous gratuity up front when the unusual couple set the date. He was also most relieved to hear that they were delivering their own prepared vows because he had lost his glasses and couldn't read any of the small words that swam around in his prayer book.

He usually went to bed at ten o'clock but had a few extra sips of wine to stay awake, a whole bottle actually **…** well, two whole bottles actually and was feeling warm and awake.

He may have looked mousy, but he spoke with a practiced volume and a capital rasp.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman." That was all Albert had memorized. He was winging it from there on out. "You two have professed your love to each other in private, but now you stand before these witnesses to make a never ending bond with each other."

He looked from Bella to Edward, fairly pleased with himself. The two of them found him adorable. Bella especially thought of her grandfather when she looked into the wrinkled craters of his eyes filled with a dark blue hue.

"I have a limited understanding of love, even less of women, but you two are a testament to the notion that when it works, it's effortless." He was on a roll now. Just in case the wine wore off too soon, he had also taken a nip of brandy just before he stepped out, several nips actually **…** well, a whole ten ounce metal flask actually. It widened his eyes and opened his mouth as much as it did his heart. It also eased the cold from its never ending quest to seep into his hollow bones.

"I met you two only a fortnight ago and, midnight wedding aside, you seemed like very grounded young people." He swallowed a belch. "You have your act together but most importantly, you two are filled with respect and devotion to each other."

The last few words were mashed together as they poured from the priest's mouth like honey. Emmett snickered from the middle of his row but the surprisingly witty old priest had already racked up several murmurs and chortles from the mostly impromptu crowd.

Father Albert wisely decided to quit while he was ahead and turned briskly to Edward before he wound up telling the graveyard story.

"Edward Cullen, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." He smiled in surprise. He had not expected things to progress so quickly after that inspired monologue.

"Good," Albert acknowledged. "Now, young man…" he swayed a bit to the left and whispered conspiratorially, but loud enough for the first couple of rows to hear. "…this is the part where you look this woman in the eyes, and you make the most sincere promise of your life. Do you know what you're going to say?"

Edward smiled, locked eyes with Bella and nodded his head.

"Well, get on with it."

Edward smiled again and licked his lips. "Bella, I promise to put you first forever. I promise to always tell you the truth and hold nothing back. I will treat you with equality and respect in all matters and I will seek your counsel often." Edward paused for a moment. He had considered taking the precaution of searching for, and incarcerating a few choice worry chickens in the hopes they would keep him from blubbering his way through his vows. But ultimately, Edward did not want to risk losing any emotional punch from such an important day.

"I will take care of you when you are sick, with love and compassion and above all, patience. I will share all the wonders of this life with you as we learn together what the future holds." He took a step forward. Initially, Bella thought he was going to kiss her but he stopped with his eyes inches from hers and his breath tickling her lips as he spoke.

"I am yours forever."

By this time, Jasper had already given his handkerchief to Alice, and the sniffles of men and women alike could be heard all around him. He suddenly realized that he and Alice were next and he hadn't even proposed. Jasper quietly took her hand and began to plan.

Father Albert was a sobbing mess, he noisily wiped his nose on the sleeve of his robe and Emmett elbowed Boston, who was sitting next to him and wiping his eyes with his thumb. "That guy needs buttons on his robes."

Boston did not understand the comment but the moment passed as the priest turned to Bella and hiccupped.

"Bella Swan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Good luck topping that**,** young lady." A hushed titter rolled through the congregation.

Bella settled her gaze on Edward. He was still so young, still so human, and she knew that against all odds he would remain that way. He was talented and handsome, but the miracle that she clung to was his devotion.

"You saved my life," she began. Her words surprised Edward. It was, after all, she who had saved him from a Paris grave.

"I was empty without you and I forgot to love the world. You opened my eyes and opened my heart, and now, I open my life to you. Edward, you will forever be a part of me. I would no more remove you than remove my heart."

Bella narrowed her eyes. It was her, _I'm about to tell you something Mister,_ face. "I promise to treat you with kindness and warmth. I promise to love you more each day with my mind and my body."

Her bold words caused more of a stir than any of the priest's comical antics. Bella did not pause long. "You will be my night and day and I promise to show you the vistas and valleys of this Earth before we leave it."

She looked over at Father Albert whose mouth was a little 'o'. His expression reminded Bella of a birdhouse. She nodded her head at him and he clapped his hands together, startling himself enough to make him stumble backwards.

Both Bella and Edward caught him by an arm before he could fall.

Albert experienced a moment just then, one where he believed that he was touched by God. He was convinced that the beautiful couple before him were, in fact, angels. Edward heard him of course and couldn't help thinking of the time in Spain where he and Bella got out of a rather sticky situation by pretending that they were angels. They had been naked. Edward held onto that memory for a moment and when Bella winked at him, he knew she had seen.

"Let's exchange rings, shall we?" Father Albert stated. He was upright and smiling again and spoke as if nothing had happened. "Edward, do you have Bella's ring?"

Edward reached into the dainty outside vest pocket that rested on his belly. It's where he would have normally kept a pocket watch. From it, he drew a white gold band with a series of diamonds that swirled together like smoke that had been trained to lie down.

"Repeat after me," Father Albert instructed. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Edward slipped the ring onto Bella's left hand. "With this ring, I thee wed."

There was a multitude of sighs, from single and married ladies alike. They rose delicately from the pews. A hundred hearts broke in Paris at that moment as well.

Albert turned to Bella and nodded. She removed a white gold band from her thumb.

"With this ring, I thee wed," he repeated.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Bella had some trouble getting the ring on Edward's finger. In fact, she was still struggling with it by the time she was done speaking her line.

Finally, it slid all the way down and she rolled her eyes and smiled at the same time.

"Edward and Bella," Father Albert said forcefully. "By the power vested in me by God and the county of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife." He winked at Edward. "You may kiss your bride, sir."

Father Albert was very interested in seeing two angels kiss and the moment was as lovely as an Italian painting. They each closed their eyes and let their mouths fall open as they drew closer. Their lips touched softly as they turned their heads, surrendering to their first embrace as husband and wife.

Applause broke the couple apart and accompanied the joyous organ strains that followed them out of the church, where they took the new carriage, driven by Jacob, to Saint John's Park.

Jacob went back for the others but there was a nice lantern lit dinner set up for the newlyweds amidst the slender trees. The food was placed on the table by hired professionals, who were preparing to feed hundreds more. They were hungry and knew this could be their only moment to sample the delicious fare.

Before Jacob left, he encouraged the couple to enjoy the quiet moments before everyone else showed up. Indeed, by the time he returned to the church, a host of cabs was being hailed to take party goers the dozen blocks up to St. John's Park. Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie and Laurent walked up the ramp and into the lavish coach as soon as Jacob pulled up.

They rode to the park in a festive mood and began discussing the reception.

"We have sixteen people on staff to prepare and serve the food," Emmett said. "They have been there since eleven thirty and I bet the smell is driving the dogs crazy by now."

Emmett had volunteered to handle the details concerning the wedding reception. Bella told him to have something simple but plentiful because they were bound to attract the whole neighborhood.

He went with ka-bobs, a bold choice, but as it turned out, perfect for the strolling atmosphere he had set up in the quaint circular oasis in lower west Manhattan. There were fruit ka-bobs, beef ka-bobs, chicken and onion ka-bobs, and even desert ka-bobs made up of gooey impaled taffy and dark chocolate truffles that left orange and red smears on the bamboo skewers they were served on.

The vampires came to the reception already well fed so as not to endanger their guests, but still, being around so many dancing and laughing humans was enticing to a few of the cold blooded guests in attendance.

Boston was eyed suspiciously merely because he was not one of the servers and Bella put a stop to any speculation when she threw herself into his arms and hugged him like a long lost brother.

Everyone loved the food and Emmett was pleased to have successfully pleased the now foreign human palate.

"Where are you taking her on your honeymoon?" he asked Edward as everyone stood around a trio of musicians, who played with gusto despite the hour quickly approaching two.

Edward looked down. "I wasn't um, allowed to plan one. Bella is taking care of that."

Emmett turned to her and rephrased his question. "Where are you taking _him_ on your honeymoon?"

"It's a surprise," she stated simply.

"It's not my surprise," Emmett protested. "You can tell me."

Bella fixed him with a cold stare. "Stop making me think about it, Emmett."

"Oh." Realization dawned on the stocky vampire. Bella did not want to have the subject even discussed in front of Edward due to his constant access to her thoughts. He turned to Edward. "So…where is _she_ taking _you_ on your honeymoon?"

Edward sighed. "Rio."

Bella's mouth opened like a volcano. "You know!"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't help it. He had known for a week.

She took his arm and shook her head. "Is that alright then?"

"Absolutely!" Edward cheered. "I can't wait to go!"

"You'll have to," she said with an apologetic smile. "There's not enough time to fly there until tomorrow night."

"But can't we just dive into the ocean at dawn and swim the rest of the way, or at least the rest of the day?" Edward posed a good question. Jasper and Jacob even nodded their heads in approval, while next to them their dates pursed their lips.

"And get all my new clothes wet?" Bella had packed a modest bag of cute outfits and shoes to wear out dancing in the exciting city.

"We'll buy new clothes when we get there?" Edward offered.

"With wet money?" Rosalie interjected, picking on her baby brother. "And where are you going to find New York designed shoes in Bella's size that were custom colored to match her plum dress?"

"Not to mention that all her make-up would be ruined," Alice added.

Edward threw his hands up. "Alright, alright. Tomorrow night we leave. But what are we going to do tonight?"

Bella fixed him with a stare that was nearly as frosty as the one she had given Emmett.

_You know what we're going to do tonight, _she thought just before she winked at him.

"Oh brother," Emmett groaned. "Don't forget to try the fig ka-bobs," he said with a smirk as he turned to leave.

"We have fig ka-bobs?" Jacob asked looking around. "I didn't see any."

Laurent stepped forward. "They're over this way. He led Jacob though the park on a winding journey that was growing suspiciously unnecessary. Eventually, they ended up right back next to the musicians where his little fig tree sat amongst his friends.

"I think you forgot something in Paris," Laurent pointed out. "I hope you have a place to put it."

Jacob was proud to see how much it had grown and was also pleased to see Laurent had also brought the wooden bench that encircled the slender trunk.

"Thank you, Laurent." Jacob embraced his friend. "I have just the place for it."

At first, he thought that it would make a great addition to the rooftop garden, but then realized that it belonged in his son's room. As the reception presented a string of speeches from friends and acquaintances alike, Jacob told Rosalie about his idea and she loved it.

In fact, they left the party for a little while and sat the maturing tree between them on the whip's bench. Jacob drove with one arm around it and Rosalie had a good hold of the beautiful ceramic pot Laurent had put it in. They carried it up the spiral staircase together and set it down in the very center of the room. While Jacob went back down to load the elevator with the bench pieces, Rosalie retrieved the miniature silver suit of armor that she had first seen sitting in the fig trees branches and returned it to its original perch.

After noticing and smiling at the ornament, he set the bench up around the pot easily and they sat together for a while talking. They had both liked having the tree back immediately and returned to the party, full of soft smiles for each other.

Alice sat down in the grass with a lantern and drew a quick picture in the little sketchbook she kept on one of Rosalie's helpful springboards. The picture she drew was of Rosalie, a fresh faced mommy with longer hair and a bundle in her arms. She was sitting underneath a fig tree while her newborn son nursed.

* * *

Edward took Bella to their wedding bed at half past five in the morning. The shy sun was safely tucked behind Brooklyn and would be so for another hour.

He undressed her slowly. Her wedding dress was eventually hung up in one of the redwood wardrobes that sat on either side of the washroom door below their lover's loft, but for the moment it was draped over the smooth railing.

His intention was to place small kisses all over her front side as he completed unwrapping his wedding present, but the sight of her liberated breasts, already hard tipped and inviting, gave him great pause.

Edward put both hands on her behind as he put his mouth over each morsel and suckled eagerly. Bella wrapped his head in her arms and moaned softly. It felt so good to be desired, devoured by him.

Edward pulled away and regarded her glistening breasts, slick in the flickering light of a single candle sitting on the wide headboard. He was pressing painfully against his trousers and began unbuttoning them while kicking off his shoes. It was a fanciful dance and he was both graceful and artistic.

He completed undressing and the encore was apparent immediately. He approached Bella and the naked couple embraced. They stood at the foot of the bed and kissed like they had all the time in the world to do so.

And of course, they did.

Edward thought back to their night making love on the Eiffel Tower. He had been so nervous about stumbling as he had tried to get his shoes off. He would later learn that Bella would never have minded. She probably would have found it endearing.

Bella was thinking of the kiss they had shared underwater in San Sebastian. They had not been able to speak underwater, so they developed simple gestures to communicate simple things. Edward would read her mind if she had something more complicated to share. A kiss was never assigned a meaning because it might have interfered with the frequency of their kisses.

Edward's liquid voice slipped into her even while his gentle lips parted hers. _Now that we can both hear like this, we could have some fun off the coast of Rio._

"Oh, Edward." Bella hadn't thought of that, not even when he suggested that they swim part way and had been overruled by the hens. "What a wonderful idea!" She looked down between their bodies. He was pressing into her belly, almost up to her breasts. "We could do a lot more than talk down there."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Edward smiled. "Come with me." He led her by the hand to her side of the bed, where he tucked her in like a child. He then went over to his side and slid beneath the covers in a whisper.

She felt his fingers first, tracing lightly on her back. He went from her neck to her bottom and sometimes, his lips were employed to apply soft pressure to her ticklish spots.

Bella hummed with contentment. She loved his slow simmer that morning, how he moved with such whimsy. She rolled over and hugged him with her mouth on his neck and her thigh between his legs.

She moved with the same slow paced seduction but knew that it wouldn't last long. She needed him too badly and was too hungry to eat slowly.

Bella rolled him onto his back and traced her fingers along his chest and stomach. She brushed against his thirty degree angle and he longed for her to grab him, hard. She did a moment later and his eyes flew open.

His mouth also flew open and stayed that way even after his eyelids reclaimed their territory.

Bella liked the weight of him in her hand. He felt like a huge bees wax candle, or the barrel of a gun in a soft suede holster. He felt her hair first, his first clue that she was going to put her mouth over him.

Edward's eyes flew open again. "Oh, yes Bella." He always felt like the luckiest man in the world when she worked on him with such confident joyfulness.

She would have smiled if she had the room.

Edward turned his head to the side and felt the cool linen of the pillowcase on his cool cheek. He let her take him to paradise and only stopped her when he saw that her little rear end was wiggling in anticipation.

She climbed onto his slick shaft and closed her eyes in bliss as she slowly lowered herself down. Bella leaned forward and surprised him by holding his arms down as she moved herself up and down on him with increasing speed and pressure.

Edward especially liked it when she took hold of her breasts and leaned her head back in release as she pushed his length into her velvet pouch.

He wanted to be closer to her so he thrust his strong hips up and deliciously bucked her a few times before lifting her from him and placing her on her back in the middle of the bed.

His feathered touch on her inner thigh told her that he wanted her to spread her legs for him and she did.

Edward moved between them and entered her like an army. She inhaled with sharp pleasure and he swallowed her following sigh with a passionate kiss while he remained deep inside her.

They kissed and moaned and pressed as close together as they could.

"I love you, Bella," Edward said into her ear after their kiss, turning to nip at her neck again.

"Call me Mrs. Cullen," she sighed.

Edward stopped, then sat up. "I don't think I can do that."

Bella looked at him questioningly before realizing that Mrs. Cullen was also his mother's name. "Sorry," Bella giggled. Edward had been on the verge of a full fledged belly laugh, and Bella's snicker was accompanied by a snort that sent him over the edge.

Before Bella knew it, her husband was in the grip of a paralyzing release of huffs and chuckles. She sat up and laughed right along with him and when they settled down she began kissing his neck and pulled him back down on top of her.

She bit his ear lobe and husked a command that instantly grew him to action. He parted her still moist flesh with the smooth tip of his newly erected monument and pushed in and out of her until they were both under the spell of its passionate rhythm.

They began kissing again and Edward kept his mouth to hers as his powerful eruption locked his muscles and made his lips shake.

Bella pushed down gently on his head, until he was nestled on her stomach and her hands were nested in his hair or massaging his shoulders. It was one of her favorite positions to lie in. She knew her man was satisfied and she could easily show her gratitude for all the gusto he put into his lovemaking.

Edward found it difficult to accept prolonged attention, and only allowed the pampering to go on for about five minutes before he put his head on the same pillow next to hers and found her sleepy eyes.

"That was amazing," he whispered.

Bella was almost asleep, her eyes closed slowly but there was one last tendril of conscious thought he caught before she drifted away.

_Wait until you see Rio._

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I am excited to participate in an upcoming fundraiser for Bronzehairedgirl620. Information about the fundraiser can be found on my author's page. I will contribute another episode of Cockeyed Optimist detailing the night Edward met Bella at a teen nightclub called Fridays.**

**There will be no update next week as a result of this effort, but I will return with Bella and Edward's honeymoon chapter on Saturday, September 17th.**

**In addition to this fundraiser, I'd like to make you all aware of a campaign to help a friend and fellow author, mostlyalurker, in her efforts to obtain a service dog. I had the opportunity to meet MAL in person a few months ago when she traveled to my local area to interview with a trainer. Without hesitation, I can tell you that the achievement of this goal would radically change her life. There is a link on my author's page to MAL's personal blog which can explain more about the project. Please take a few moments to visit and see if you can find a way to help the cause.**

**Thank you all, as always and for those of you who review, you already know that I always respond to your comments.**

**MOG**


	27. Chapter 27: St Lucia

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a Snuggie.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven:**

**St. Lucia**

Bella flew Edward over the Atlantic Ocean and the two of them tasted the wind as it flavored their journey with a salty sting. They had their arms around each other's shoulders. It was the preferred way to travel on long distance flying trips and when they took off from the rooftop garden, Emmett commented that they looked like two drunken chums holding each other up.

They streaked through the winter sky, their cheeks getting colder than usual at a thousand feet high. The big travel trunk that Edward held in his free hand swung lightly back and forth despite their speed. It looked like he was carrying the square grand piano; another observation Emmett made as they were flying away.

"We won't make all the way there on the first night," Bella told him after several miles had unfolded beneath them.

"I was wondering about that," Edward replied.

Bella thought her next comment because the wind easily took their words away. She also needed the practice at communicating telepathically since they would be spending a lot of time underwater.

_We're going to fly over Cuba, actually between Cuba and Haiti. Then we'll turn east to St. Lucia, the island I've chosen as our sleepover._

_How do you know these islands? _Edward asked.

_I slept beneath the sea for almost a hundred years, _she reminded him. _ I know more about these islands than anyone living there._

Below them, the good people of South Carolina were putting their children to bed. Chilly trees hugged each other in the dark, and dirt roads dueled at intersections that looked like stars on the ground.

Edward turned his head and kissed her neck. She smelled like apples. It made him think of the new horses Jacob had gotten for the new and much bigger carriage. Edward had allowed Monty and his gang to charm their way into an apple a day from his hand as he deepened his respect for the green-broke geldings.

He had no way of knowing that Jacob, Alice, Esme and Carlisle all came down to feed the eager animals daily as well. The horses had quite the racket going.

_I smell like horses? _ Bella was certain she had misunderstood her husband, but reading minds was a tricky art to master.

Edward laughed heartily. He tried to retrace his thoughts exactly to give her another crack at the memory linked message. Thoughts triggered by memories were notoriously difficult to interpret. Unfortunately, Edward had come to understand that well over half of people's thoughts were connected to a memory and easily taken out of context.

_I smell like apples. _Bella was pleased, both with her successful plucking of a highly extemporaneous thought and her pleasing and ripe scent.

Edward loved to eat apples.

They watched as Florida was swept from beneath them and then there was nothing below them but the sea. The water was beautiful and the rippled reflection of the moon paced them from a safe distance as they lead it across the Caribbean.

_Where is St. Lucia? _Edward did not feel embarrassed that he had never heard of it and Bella did not judge his lack of Northern Hemisphere island knowledge.

_Have you heard of Barbados? _

_Yes! _Edward knew that Barbados was an island far off the coast of Venezuela but that was the extent of his awareness.

_Well, it's near there, _she communicated with a crooked smile.

The glow of the moon exposed the midnight swells below them to brief white light that seemed to sparkle as Edward watched its reflection and wondered if Bella was going to elaborate.

"Is that all I'm going to get?"

_For now._ Bella thought, she was feeling feisty.

They arrived at St. Lucia an hour before dawn. It was small as islands go, but big enough to make the newlyweds feel like they were in deep woods. After only a few minutes of walking along a trail that led from the beach, Bella guided Edward to a stone door built right into the hillside. It was leaning backwards into the hill itself and had obvious scars from the rain. At one time, faces had been carved into its surface, but time had eroded them to little more than impressions in the rock.

Bella leaned forward, put one hand on the door to steady herself, and knocked with the other.

They did not have to wait long before the door was swung outward with great effort and held open by an olive skinned man with a smooth head and so many rings in his ears that he looked like an urn with gold teardrop handles.

He recognized Bella immediately and almost smiled. He actually wanted to smile but chose to remain passive until he knew what she was up to. The last time he had seen the pale beauty, she was respected and feared in the pirate community. That made her important but not necessarily trustworthy. Yet, their dealings had always been fair and he was fond of her. He had simply assumed that she had perished somehow.

"Hello again, Bonita," he said in a rumble of a voice.

"Hello, Helix."

Edward could hear his thoughts easily. Helix was a vampire, not as old as Bella, but close. He did not know her well but he admired her and would be a loyal friend to her. Helix would not hurt her or any of her friends, Edward was certain of it.

"Who is your friend?" he asked, turning to Edward and extending the huge hand not holding the door.

"This is Edward, my husband. We're newly wed and on our way to Rio. We need a place to stay for the night."

He looked at Edward with an experienced eye, studying him along with the large trunk he carried.

Edward felt the vampire's surprise at hearing that Bella was married but Helix felt no jealousy. He was happy for her, thrilled in fact, but he still gave her man the visual once over to assess for himself.

He studied Edward's eyes first, stepping forward and regarding him pleasantly. Then he looked at the young man's hands. His eyebrows raised. Finally, he looked at Edward's shoes. Edward always wore nice shoes.

Helix had teeth that were as big as they were white and his face changed from sinister to a welcoming with a quick twitch of the lips. "Come right in."

He showed Bella and Edward to a room that was two left turns, one right turn, another left turn and then two more right turns from the door. Edward was trying to remember his way when Bella's voice chimed into his mind.

_Bonita is the Spanish translation of Bella. It's his little joke. They all called me that._

Edward understood. He sensed no hostility from Helix, in fact, he settled on thinking about how relieved he was that Bella has found someone. He cared for her happiness a great deal and felt that she had been denied a companion for too long.

He ducked through a doorway and stopped in a large low room that already had several candles lighting long bookshelves. It reminded Edward of Bella's room under the stage in her Paris theatre.

"Since you are on your honeymoon, I offer you my own room." Helix held up his hand before Bella could protest. "None of the other rooms would do. Please, it is my gift to you."

"Thank you," Bella accepted.

"May I bring either of you some blood?" Helix asked as he made his way back towards the door.

"No, thank you," Edward told him. "We have plenty."

"Shall I inform you when the sun goes down so you can be on your way?" he asked.

"No," Bella replied. "Wake us two hours before. I would like to talk with you for a while, catch up. I've missed you, Helix."

He was not expecting the sentiment, nor would he have predicted his purely joyful reaction to it. "I shall have a dinner prepared," he answered quickly before he pulled a thick purple tapestry over the door on his way out.

* * *

By 1717, Bella had been a notorious pirate for over a decade. She had even been shot off the Spanish coast in 1705 while looting a sinking ship that had not exactly been vacated yet.

She slept beneath the waves during the day, but at night she was a beautiful and deadly ghost to many of her swashbuckling victims. Bella, or Bonita as she was known then, had the hearts of her prey before she had their blood. She was loved by many men but she let no man have her.

They got no farther than her savage mouth.

She slowly built her fortune and as fortune would have it, gold kept quite nicely underwater.

Being back in the same book lined room where she had once enjoyed a glass of wine with Helix produced a wave of nostalgia that was fueled mostly by a dozen scents in the air. She remembered that he had introduced her to another pirate from Santo Domingo, who was purported to be even more blood thirsty than she was.

That was saying a lot for a human.

Bella killed him just outside the stone door when he tried to kidnap her. He had no idea who she was or what she could do until it was too late. It was just one of many times that a man had assumed that her beauty alone was an invitation for their advances.

Edward was so different: a gentleman, a little thick in the beginning, but honest and poetic and beautiful. Bella wondered if she hadn't fallen in love with him from the first moment he spoke to her.

She looked at him with hungry eyes as she stalked and extinguished every last candle in the room. The room was dipped in darkness, only their vampire vision giving them any assistance. Bella was a coal shadow that curved deliciously and her eyes managed to find some speck of light to reflect at Edward when she stared from across the room.

"You're in trouble." Her voice was little more than a growl and she closed the distance between them in an inky black streak of need.

She pounced on him in the dark and moved her hands quickly over his clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. She put both her hands on his chest once she had gotten them both completely undressed and pushed him backwards until he fell into the soft and cool bed.

"I've been thinking about this all night," she said heavily as she climbed on top of him and kissed his neck.

Edward felt her delicious skin as it settled over his and his reaction was a welcome growth of soft steel. She did not make him wait long, she was too anxious herself. Their bodies were pressed together and he slid into in as naturally as if they were made for each other.

Edward closed his eyes, feeling the pressure of her naked body on his. She hid his length inside her and treated him to a session of squeezing pleasure that made him sigh with mad bliss.

Bella placed his hands on her breasts and when he began to knead and caress the sensitive flesh, she threw her head back and moaned with satisfaction.

He pushed himself as deep as he could into her tight recesses and she responded by crying out over and over again. He moved his hands to her hips and pushed her down on him hard until she called his name in delirium.

When she was dizzy and spent, she crashed down on top of his chest and buried his face with her hurried hair.

Edward held her in the dark cool room and softly stroked her head.

"What about you?" she asked after a while.

"I'm close," he replied.

She slid to one side and worked her hand down and felt for his hard resolve. "Is this what you want?"

He looked at her and even in the dark her eyes spoke to him. She wanted to give him pleasure, she had taken what she wanted and was bent on rewarding him for it. He nodded his head and she set to work with her hands and her mouth.

Edward let the travels of the day melt away. He felt only the eager efforts of his new bride. The sensory deprivation intensified everything else and he decided that he would like to experiment with it in the future.

Bella hummed playfully, she liked where his thoughts were going and soon after felt the warm rush of frenzy in her mouth. She swallowed her prize and kissed his belly as she moved up to put her head on his chest once again.

They dozed for about twenty minutes and then stirred each other into more comfortable sleeping positions. Bella slept on her stomach and Edward faced her, draping his arm and his leg over her to maintain close contact.

They woke only briefly during the day and worked together to find new ways to snuggle back into sleep each time they did. The bed was comfortable and clean and smelled like peppermint.

A tiny bell rang for a few seconds outside the entrance to their room and Helix spoke in a hushed voice. "Dinner will be served in half an hour over in the atrium."

"Thank you," Bella said and heard footsteps walking away.

The footsteps came back a moment later. "The atrium is new since your last visit. I'll be back to take you there."

"We'll be ready in fifteen minutes," she informed him, already watching as Edward rose naked from the bed and knelt in front of the trunk to gather that day's clothes. He had only brought one pair of shoes and immediately regretted it. His smart wing tips were going to serve him well, but they were black and he longed for something with more of a natural brown for the trousers he chose for that day.

Bella laughed playfully. "You have spent too much time with Alice."

Edward had been putting on his pale blue dress shirt and turned to face her. His protest came with a view of his soft but large manhood playing peek-a-boo behind the fabric.

"There is nothing wrong with a man having a healthy appreciation for style."

"No, there isn't," Bella agreed. "But you have turned appreciation into an obsession."

He reached into the trunk and pulled out two pairs of women's shoes in one hand and another two pair in the other. He said nothing.

She smiled at his teasing and asked him to hand her the white pair in his left hand. They dressed together and Edward used the mirror to tame his sideways hair while Bella brushed through hers with vampire efficiency.

It made the room smell like her and Edward liked that. Apples again, but with something else, a fragrance that came from her when she slept. It was the very scent of warmth and Edward associated that smell with her more than any other.

Helix came back for them and walked them all the way back to the front door before taking them down several more passageways. It took longer to get to the atrium than it had to get to his room the night before, but eventually they were looking into what appeared to be a small sunlit clearing in the forest.

Helix walked right in and sat down. "Mirrors," he explained. "They make this whole room look like we're eating outside, but it doesn't burn."

Bella and Edward could see that he was unharmed and their experience with the smoky glass in their own home gave them reason to believe that his discovery was a sound one. The room was fairly small, with a table for eight and mirrors from floor to ceiling.

"We have hundreds of mirrors positioned to reflect daylight into this chamber and only the light comes down, none of the heat."

"It's not actually the heat that kills us," Bella told him. "We have learned quite a bit about how sunlight behaves ourselves."

Helix introduced them to his other guests, all vampires and they were very interested in stories from New York City. They all spoke freely, new friends celebrating the good life.

Helix called her Bonita the entire time.

Edward and Bella were also told all about _el partido revolucionario cubano, _a newly formed regime set upon Cuba's independence.

"They just want a democracy," Helix told the two of them.

"A liberal democracy," a friend of his said, clearly disagreeing.

"Victor," Helix soothed. "A democracy will balance the liberal and the conservative."

"The Cuban revolution just wants the sugar," he snapped.

Helix shook his head. "The sugar boom hit decades ago. There's more money in shipping, and any of the islands could jump on that. They just want what we want… freedom."

Victor was deflated, but was a gracious opponent and deeply considered the argument presented. He even thanked Helix for the education on a matter he suddenly knew little about.

They seemed like a good lot who were mostly interested in keeping to themselves and feeding on wild boars that they bred on the island.

"I am happy to see that you have become enlightened about the mistreatment of humans," Edward pointed out when Helix explained the different taste of the dark blood he poured into their crystal goblets.

Helix was a polite host and did not point out to his guest that they did so purely out of necessity, but Bella sent Edward a mental message that made him close his eyes and nod his head in understanding.

"We have a friend back home in New York who had developed many fine recipes for pig blood drinks that you might find interesting," Edward suggested.

"I believe I would. I hope you will bring them when you return," Helix told him. "You are welcome anytime."

"Thank you," Bella answered. "I wish we could spend more time today but..."

"Nonsense!" Helix interrupted. "You are on your honeymoon, and as you can see, the sun will be down soon." He gestured to the mirrors all around them which had begun to mark the fading light outside.

They ate lightly and got to know the others; David was a young vampire, thirteen years into his new life, he had told them proudly. He was also extremely jumpy despite being genuinely funny and a middle aged man in human years. He carved totem poles out of the trees near the beach and assured them that they would see his handiwork along the shoreline when they set sail.

_They think that we have a boat. _ Edward sent his message to Bella with a hint of distress. _Do we tell them you can fly?_

_Let's wait, _she thought back. _Helix will likely be the only one with us when we leave. We can trust him I'm sure, but the others..._She did not complete her thought.

Laurel was a very interesting vampire, she was older as vampires go and had the calm hands of someone who had seen a thousand full moons. When she told them that she was nearing the century mark Bella was not surprised.

_They have a look_, she thought.

She had very long blonde hair but was otherwise fairly homely. Her eyes were gray and her mouth was tight, but she was wise and kind and showed them magic tricks with seeds and coins.

"I have voodoo dolls," she told them before Helix gently guided the conversation to another topic.

There was a vampire at the table whose human body appeared to be no more than a boy's, but his eyes told another story. His name was Eli and he was just there to drink rum with Bartholomew and Bertram, two brothers who were turned together in Panama.

Eli was a clever and prompt participant in the conversation as long as it didn't involve women. He was a virgin and the condition vexed him greatly. Bella heard his lewd thoughts for her but she felt nothing but pity.

She locked eyes with him at one point in the evening and said something quietly while most of the rest of them chatted about the last hurricane season.

"Drinking only makes it worse, Eli. Women want a focused man."

His face was completely impassive, but when he finished the glass in front of him he switched to blood after that.

Bella and Edward packed their trunk quickly and when they returned to the stone door, Helix was waiting to walk them to the dock on the beach.

Bella smiled. "Why don't we lead the way?"

Edward carried the trunk while Bella and Helix walked ahead of him on the wide dirt trail to the beach.

"How old are you, Helix?" Bella asked casually.

"Two hundred and two," he responded happily.

"Have you noticed any changes in your body?"

"I drink more blood. I'm a bit stronger perhaps." He spoke slowly, obviously looking for meaning. She had his attention.

"I am almost twice your age," she disclosed, "and I have recently befriended several friends in New York that are much older than even me and we have learned some things about ourselves."

She stopped and walked around behind Helix, who understood that he was about to be shown something that would explain her comments. She knew that he was always adventurous so she slid her arms under his and curled her hands around until they were clamped on top of his shoulders.

She turned to Edward. "Be right back, love."

Bella took off quickly and thought she heard a yelp from Helix just before gales of laughter erupted from his wind filled mouth.

"I can fly."

"This is unbelievable."

"We gain powers as we grow older, Helix. Find yours and help only others who are bent on doing good. We are entering a strange time in both vampire and human existence. I want to see our kind value them more." Bella's voice shook with emotion and speed.

"Well said Bonita, I will." Helix looked down and was shocked to hear his own voice. "Take us higher."

She streaked upwards. Holding him as she did was a decision she had made due to his great size, but it seemed quite comfortable for them both. She made a mental note to try it with Edward.

From the darkening beach, Edward watched as the two of them disappeared from even his sight. He could hear them thinking, had in fact heard Bella decide to carry him under his arms to see how he liked it, but then they were out of range.

They were about twenty times higher, almost five miles up, before Bella saw it really well and directed Helix's attention to the horizon. It was a good thing she saw it too, if she went any higher, she would expose them both to the sun that had gone down less than a half hour before.

"You can see the curvature of the earth!" she shouted. Bella had not gone so high until recently when she and Edward wanted to see how far up they could get and still see New York City's lights.

They were both humbled by the experience of seeing the very boundaries of the planet and there in her arms, Helix was having a similar singular moment of clarity that would come to bring great changes in his life.

"It's amazing," he said quietly.

Bella took him back down with great sweeping joy that made both their eyes water.

When his feet hit the beach in the exact footprints he left in the sand, his knees buckled and he sat down hard.

"Thank you," he said. "I had no idea that you could actually see the slope of the ocean."

"Oh," Edward exclaimed as he turned to Bella. "You took him to see the curve?" He reached out his hand and pulled Helix up. "Amazing isn't it?"

"Indescribable," Helix answered. "Have you considered going to the moon?"

"Not possible," Bella said flatly. "Eventually, we would be exposed to the sun."

Helix nodded, "Of course, but couldn't you just keep the earth between you and the sun until you get there?"

"Not when they both keep moving," she replied.

Edward was fascinated. He had never discussed the matter with her and had never heard her contemplate the journey, yet she had clearly given it some thought.

Helix nodded again. "So, you don't have a boat."

"No."

"How did you know?"

Bella looked at Edward. "I found out by accident."

"Will you be staying here on your way back home?" His request was trimmed with hopefulness.

"Tell you what," Bella said. "If you'll have us, we'd love to stay for two nights."

Helix was thrilled and waved briskly as they took off into the evening air. Edward pointed out the totem poles as they shrank from view.

* * *

The trunk kept banging painfully into Bella's leg when she carried Edward like she had Helix, so they wound up with their arms around each other's shoulders again by the time they flew over St. Vincent.

They traveled over the jungles of South America for much of the journey instead of following the coast. They saved so much time that they arrived in Rio at just past three in the morning. They had plenty of time to spare.

Even Rio sleeps and Edward had no idea what he was in for when it woke up.

He and Bella and went into a large downtown hotel that had open front doors and plants on the sidewalks with leaves the size of man hole covers. They booked a room on the top floor, but not a suite. Suites always came with extra windows.

They had only one window, but the curtains were white wispy little things that would not sufficiently hold out the sunlight. Edward grabbed the bedspread and tucked it securely between the curtain rod and the wall. The room was primarily going to be used to hold their belongings and give them a place to clean the saltwater from their skin before going out on the town each night, but when Edward saw the large fluffy bed he just knew that they would opt for a few days of sleep.

"You're right," Bella said to him. "In fact, let's stay in here for the first day."

She looked over at the bed as well and then picked up the trunk and moved it to a table near the window. She tugged on the bedspread, testing Edward's handiwork and was rewarded with a scoff from behind her.

She did not pay any attention to him. Instead, she pulled something from the trunk that Edward first mistook for a pair of his suspenders. It most definitely was not, but he didn't find that out until she completely undressed in front of him and then slowly put the item on.

"Watch how this works," she told him. "You'll be the one taking it off."

A single black silk strap ran up Bella's spine. It was attached at the bottom to a small silver ring on the back of a smaller pair of underwear. On top, it was attached to a silk collar by another silver ring.

From the front, there were two straps that fell from the collar and covered her breasts with a thin layer of shiny black fabric. They were wider but showed a lot of skin between her erect nipples, as well as revealing her whole smooth belly.

She went to put on shoes as well, but Edward grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a kiss that was as demanding as it was welcome. He traced his fingers down the silk that was covering her body but did not remove it.

"Where did you get this? You know you could get arrested for wearing this?"

Bella laughed. "Not in Rio."

Edward eased his hands into her hair and kissed her again. He drank from her lips as his fingers found a home in her long brown curls. He was overcome with the luck of having such an amazing wife to share all of eternity with. Bella was strong in a way that made other men uncomfortable, and smart in a way that made them afraid. Fortunately, she was also beautiful enough to make them forget their concerns.

Bella began finding buttons to unfasten and layers to strip from her hungry husband. He was kissing her like a love starved fool and she knew that it was going to be one of those nights where he allowed himself to lose control.

She liked it when Edward lost control. He was animal yet vulnerable, and the passion put gravel into his voice.

When Bella had his shirt completely removed, she put her hands on his smooth chest and hummed with delight. She loved his hard body and the sculpture of young muscles frozen in time.

She walked them to the small firm bed and sat down while she lowered his trousers. When she freed his steel flesh, she put both hands on him, one above the other, and took the remainder in her mouth. She moved her tongue feverishly round his smooth skin and listened at his sharp intake of air.

She loved making him do that.

Bella enjoyed having him in her mouth. He was always so responsive and she loved the way he tasted; like rain mixed with pomegranate, tangy but natural. His skin was smooth and hard and slid past her lips with ease.

She began to run her tongue down the length of him, using one hand to hold his bulk up against his belly as she felt his tight dark curls of hair tickle her chin. She looked up at him and he was watching her treatment of him with rapt attention.

She smiled at Edward and he liked what he saw. Bella then started to give him tiny kisses while pulling the straps from her collar. Just the sight of her beautiful chest made Edward swallow hard.

Bella began milking him with both hands and recaptured the darkening fruit at the top of his shaft in her mouth. She was on a mission to make him finish, but he had plans for her that would take them into the breakfast hour.

He could feel a pulsing that started right between his legs, and it ran up the hard cable that became the base of his heavily trafficked erection. Edward attempted to stop her, but she shushed him. He warned her telepathically what was going to happen if Bella didn't stop. She gave him a one word reply.

_Good._

As it turned out, Bella had plans for them that would take them into the _lunch_ hour and she wanted to help Edward get ready for a marathon. He understood, and prepared himself for a rush that would no doubt leave him panting despite his independence from oxygen.

Bella waited for Edward to stand on his toes, it was his tell, and she removed her mouth and leaned her head back. She used one hand to continue pumping him up and down and with the other she pushed her breasts together underneath his inevitable fountain.

Edward was shocked. She had never done that before but the idea of watching his seed glistening her waiting breasts pushed him over the edge and idea became reality as rich streaks of white passion pushed their way out of him.

Bella was smiling, she liked the way it looked and she liked the way it felt. Edward crawled onto the bed while she went to the washroom to clean herself in a brown clay basin that was almost big enough to sit in.

The washroom of their accommodations was much bigger than either of them had ever seen before, not even in the New York theatre had a room been given so much ornate attention and real estate.

There were plants everywhere potted in the same kind of basins that sat around the room holding cold clear water. The cotton towels matched the green color of the leaves and that alone was a decadent touch that impressed Bella greatly.

There was a step down oval tub deeper in the jungle washroom but Bella knew that they would get their fill of water in the Atlantic Ocean and the _Baia de Guanabara_. She took her time washing up and went back to the trunk a few times to put back things and set up the small wooden table near the large basin with all her beauty items.

She brushed the wind and salt from her hair and drank deeply from one of three water skins they had filled with swine blood. When she went back to Edward, she offered him the blood and drinking it woke him up considerably.

He was ready for another round.

* * *

Their first dawn together in Rio was all teeth and lips and hands and hips.

Edward knew that Bella wanted him to take control, to take her. He did so with extreme prejudice and her cries of pleasure had him second guessing himself until she said the words he need to hear.

"Don't you dare stop." Bella was almost delirious with climaxes that built in intensity and she was well into a dozen before Edward did finally slow down and rest for a moment.

Bella was on her back. Edward hovered over her like a welcome wolf and even cocked his head to the side like an animal as he listened to something outside.

"Are those streetcars?" He heard rumbles and squeaks that could only mean that below them on the sunny streets, electric trollies buzzed like bees.

"Rio has a great railway system, much older than New York's too."

Edward listened some more. "There are dozens of them, maybe even a hundred."

"I wish we could get one with protective glass so we could ride around the city this afternoon." Bella longed to at least look out the window and realized that they had become very spoiled while living behind their custom window panes in America.

"That would be fun," Edward agreed. "But I hear the night life in Rio is really where it's at."

Bella smiled at him. He was still inside her and she knew that he was just waiting for her to relax before he started moving again. He liked the shocked and surprised look he received when he gave her a deep thrust.

"It is. You will like it, a dancer like you."

It was true. Edward liked to dance and he had the body for it.

They spent the whole day naked and laughing in each other's arms.

"We have waited a long time for this," Edward observed.

Bella chuckled. "You have no idea."

All of Rio and its waters were theirs to play in and they were going to spend the next few weeks getting good and wet.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**I will be contributing an outtake for the Fandom4Texas fundraiser to help those who lost their homes to the fires that burned there last month. Please follow the link on my profile page to donate.**

**Likewise, there are links on my profile page to other worthy causes. I will write for each of them and encourage you to help. You will get access to Cockeyed Optimist episodes that will not otherwise see the light of day for months yet.**

**Thanks for your continued reading and word of mouth. Bella Voce has had quite a resurgence in recent weeks.**

**If you have not yet done so, check out my wife's story, Restless. It's a powerful and positive tale that makes you wish it was longer. Her penname is RandomCran.  
**

**MOG**


	28. Chapter 28: Santo Cristo

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**RandomCran wrote Morgan Locklear's disclaimer this week (the pressure...)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight:**

**Santo Cristo**

The sun couldn't set fast enough for the secluded couple even though they had only fallen asleep as the first wine bottles of the afternoon were being uncorked somewhere in the hotel below them. They wrapped their limbs together like an elaborate bow on a gift but they awoke five hours later.

Edward opened his jungle green eyes and listened for people discussing the sunset. No matter where he was, there always seemed to be someone nearby who found a moment to stop and appreciate the ending seconds of the day.

There was mostly music, both inside and outside of people's minds. The people sang in many languages that included Italian, English, Spanish and French. But on the streets, they spoke Portuguese. Bella assured him that she knew enough of the language to get them by.

Edward heard some children talking in Spanish and they mentioned the sun's last wink. That was enough for him to risk a peek out the window.

Twilight rubbed the city like a lover. Rio de Janeiro was a big villa in the hills and it occupied the south side of Guanabara Bay. The city of Niterói was their water neighbor to the north and often saw the afternoon rain showers before Rio did.

Bella told Edward that she would be taking him to Niterói as well as her favorite area of the entire district, São Gonçalo. It was further inside the grand body of water and, according to her, much older feeling.

"I know you've seen enough churches to last a while," Bella told him from the bed. "But you are going to love some of these structures. They're more like fortresses." She was admiring the view as Edward did not bother to dress before walking to the window.

Bella let her eyes slide along his calves and up to his behind before taking in his well defined back and shoulders. She got up and approached him, pressing her naked body against his as they gazed down at the flickering city.

He was watching streetcars scatter for the night as Bella looked out over Guanabara Bay. Her first visit such a long, long time ago came to mind. Back then the city had been known as January _Sound. _She loved Rio and she was not the only one. Many had claimed the sound for themselves in her lifetime.

"It sure is bright," she commented.

Edward laughed. "I wasn't expecting it to be so modern either, but I like it."

"It looks fairly safe down there," Bella observed. "I can be ready in twenty minutes."

Out on the streets of Santo Cristo, an older part of Rio that made the city seem smaller than it was, they walked hand in hand. They were close enough to the water to feel the warm December breeze and it was as pleasant as the first weeks of a New York June.

They drank white wine soon after, while listening to three musicians playing small flutes. They were very sweet and the wind instruments lent a sorrowful pitch to the seasonal songs. Edward heard that music in his head for the rest of the night but never found the musicians again. He was haunted by those tunes but would not know now much until he returned home.

The newlyweds spent hours strolling the alleys disguised as streets and Edward noted that they always seemed to be walking up hill no matter which direction they turned. Bella told him that slanted thresholds always reminded her of Rio.

They found a butcher shop and discovered something they had not anticipated. There were no pigs in Brazil. There were bats,billions of bats, but no pigs.

Edward eyed the inventory of the shop and saw many interesting fillets. He had no idea that he was looking at monkey and opossum but when he asked about a particularly large hunk of meat he was informed that it was a Spectacled Bear.

Edward could hear that Bella was embarrassed at her oversight but she already had a remedy brewing. She smiled at the butcher and told him to inquire about hogs on ships docked at Santa Theresa Harbor. She promised to pay him twice what he paid for each one.

The man agreed to begin his search the next morning and shook her hand enthusiastically.

Bella marched outside and apologized to Edward but he wouldn't have it. They had enough blood for another two days and she seemed to have the problem solved.

They followed samba music down the street and Bella thought of her "Spicy Show" at the _Theatre de la Nuit._ The saucy sounds led to some frisky dancing in the shadows and drew them to a courtyard restaurant where six musicians shook, strummed and sung their way into the night air. A continuous stream of people was drawn inside and the vampire couple was not immune to the promise of good music and good wine.

Edward and Bella switched to Champagne and talked about Rosalie and Jacob. The baby was due in a few months and they were both aware that the experience was as close as they were going to get to being parents. They would help any way they could with Benjamin's upbringing and would consider themselves lucky for having had the opportunity to share their home with him.

"I want you to be able to see your family often Edward because one day, you will have only me."

Edward laughed, but he took her meaning to heart and squeezed her hand over the table.

When it was time for them to leave, Edward insisted that she let him carry her across the bay. He loved running on the water and knew that she wanted to cross it. She thought it was a romantic gesture and agreed with a giggle. He scooped Bella up in his arms and ran towards the salty lights of Niterói.

The people were a bit more quiet perhaps but certainly wild at heart given all the romantic expression Bella and Edward witnessed there. Couples were kissing deeply against walls and on benches and many had allowed their hands to become quite familiar with their partners.

Bella turned to face him, her hair was damp from the air over the bay and Edward really really regretted only packing one pair of shoes. They always got wet enough to make his socks wet and he did not like the squishy feeling.

"Would you like to kiss me here in the street?" Her question shook Edward from his soggy thoughts and he looked into eyes as brown as cinnamon on top of melted butter. Her mouth was opened just enough for him to see her pink tongue waiting inside.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said and swept her backwards with one strong arm. Her hair nearly touched the crushed shell street. Edward's face was very close to hers, a determined beauty and his eyes were alight with excitement before he closed them and pressed his lips to hers with hungry force.

He touched his strong tongue to the tip of hers and then she felt it disappear to explore her teeth and lips. She sent her own tongue out to caress his sweet mouth and then they were lost in each other, falling into the kiss like fools from a tree and their passion spread to greedy hands that found soft places to roost.

Music was in the very air over all of Brazil it seemed because Niterói was as alive with it as Rio was. Even as midnight announced itself, the pepper shaker music was scurrying around every corner.

Edward's hand slid down Bella's back to her behind and he pressed her into him. The idea that they were embracing in public while people walked by or stood on the covered porch of a nearby tavern was thrilling to them both.

Bella moved her hand to his behind as well and squeezed a healthy handful as she wrestled playfully with his elusive tongue. They did not spin, they did not sway back and forth, they just kissed.

"The locals have another name for this place," Bella panted as she finally pulled her mouth away. "They call it Niquiti, it's very rich with love."

"I can feel it," Edward told her, just before he pulled her into another fervid kissing session. The couple stood in the blue light of electric lanterns with colored glass as the bassa nova night pulsed around them.

Dawn came late at that time of year so it was near seven o'clock when Edward carried her back to their hotel room where they stripped down naked and took only towels with them to the beach.

Edward buried the towels in the sand and took Bella's hand. They walked into the water together and just before their heads dipped below the surface Edward kissed her cheek.

"I hope you're not tired yet," he declared.

* * *

The water was warm despite the season and as Edward swam deeper the noise of the world was snuffed out like a candle. Only the serenade of Bella's voice accompanied him into the liquid lair.

_Are there any shipwrecks here? _ Edward thought.

_A few, we can take our pick. I like being able to hear you this time._

_Me too. _Edward's smile was as sweet as it was wet. _Do you want to try something?_

Bella was curious, she looked over at him as they swam along the cove floor.

_What did you have in mind? _ She got the feeling by his tone that he was not referring to something sexual. She made sure that her tone suggested that she was.

Edward's chuckle came into her mind like a current. _Climb onto my back and put your arms around my neck._

Bella was intrigued; this was going to be better than she thought. She slid her smooth naked skin over his behind and back and laced her fingers together below his chin. Her breasts were firm against his muscles and when he began to swim fast the water rushed between them deliciously.

Edward arched his body up and down and his feet kicked up a tremendous white horizontal tornado behind them. Bella pressed her body to his and bent her knees so that her feet stuck straight up. They were pleasantly battered by the rushing sea.

He was so powerful beneath her, like a galloping stallion, that she was aroused. When he heard her thoughts, coupled with the tickle of her private curls on his curved behind, Edward developed some drag of his own in the water.

They punched through the ocean three hundred feet down, scattering schools of fish that quickly reformed behind them like a parlor trick.

She loved the way he felt, but she desperately wanted to watch him. Bella wanted more than anything to see how he looked when he moved so deliberately through the ocean. Edward slowed down and his command to her was just as powerful as his arms.

_Sit up and wrap your legs around me._

Bella spread her legs apart and swung them down until she was sitting on the small of his back with her ankles locked together at his stomach. The heel of her left foot sat right on top of his belly button. H_is proof of humanity, _she thought_. Mine too._

Edward smiled at the comment as he started out slow but ended moving as briskly as before. Bella got what she wanted, a nice view of his working strong shoulders as well as the feeling of her exposed breasts cutting through the South Atlantic.

Bella let her arms float above her head as she enjoyed the thrilling speed and friction. She leaned back and looked up at the surface far above them. It was a beautiful barrier. She thought of how her life had gone from lonely to loved in the blink of an eye, and how it would stay that way forever.

Above them the world was changing fast. All the last bits of the planet were being discovered and the machines humans were building would surely one day carry them to the stars. She wondered what that world had in store for her and her new lover but in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be in the moment.

She was still leaning back and looked forward, down her body at him. She watched as her breasts jiggled, and how the prim brown dollop of hair that rose from the junction of her gripping legs, swayed in the current. Edward's strong back beyond them, never tired.

Edward scanned the shelf floor for something that would suit them. He saw several shipwrecks that would work wonderfully and having that task completed, he just enjoyed the new terrain and swept along the bumpy sand with joy.

They swam onward and to where the ocean floor drooped away into black oblivion. Edward liked the feel of her legs wrapped tightly around him. They were completely alone. Unseen and unheard, undressed and underwater. Edward wanted to go back and find a place to make love until the earth quaked.

_So do I, _Came Bella's determined voice in his head.

He looked to the left as he laughed and that was when he saw it. A straight line of stone. It was not natural, nature rarely made straight lines. He swam them over to it and saw that it was not a line but a ledge. It was the roof of some kind of stone structure.

Bella's eyes told Edward what he needed to know even before she told him that she had never seen anything like it. They both dug for a few minutes only to discover that the yielding silt revealed two more such ledges.

Edward stopped and looked around them. He had an idea. _Come with me,_ he thought as he took her by the hand and swam away from the ledges. _Stay over here for a minute, I'm going to stir things up. _It was a bad pun, he was not proud, but he smiled as if he were and that, more than anything, is what got Bella laughing. She started laughing so hard in fact, that she started to take in great gulps of water which was not good.

Edward's look of concern was enough to snap her out of it and she coughed roughly before smiling and nodding to him. _I'm alright, go ahead, do what you were going to do._

He embraced her as they stood with their feet sinking in the silky sand and then sped away and began running around in circles, sweeping up the fine earth and sending it straight up in a cloudy vortex.

Bella watched as tons of material spiraled up and out of the area where Edward was running. It arced and began to rain down behind her. The canopy of silt made her feel like she was in a dream.

Edward sank until he disappeared in the middle of what turned out to be four large square structures. When he emerged, he was smiling and his hair was frosted with sand.

_Come see it!_ He grabbed her hand again and swam her over to have a look. It was a stone courtyard with one large building on all four sides. Each building had one large square opening facing the courtyard and smaller holes around the outside.

There were three steps that went down into the courtyard and in the very center, three more that framed a perfect square ten feet across. That is where Edward made love to Bella for the first time in their underwater getaway.

He laid her down on a soft layer of sand that he left in the pit on purpose. Bella sank about an inch and smiled at the tickling sensation. Edward knelt in front of her and his knees sank and fell against her skin.

He looked down at her with hunger but she could see that he was not ready yet. All that running around had returned him to a more pliable state. She reached up and gently took him in hand. She stroked and cooed him into an intimidating size and then she grabbed him hard enough to make his eyes open like camera shutters. She pulled him down and shoved him inside her with the kind of greed that made Edward open his eyes in surprise.

She wanted him desperately and he was going to give her exactly that. Once inside her, he moved with the power of a locomotive and soon they had made a wide track in the sand all the way to the stone steps above their heads.

When they got there, Bella got on her knees and put her hands on the top step. She kept her legs together and when Edward pushed himself into her he moaned at the tight squeeze.

He was filling her so completely that her elbows nearly buckled.

Edward grabbed her hips and pulled her firmly towards his thrusts. He was relentless and after a few minutes of the constant stimulation, her thoughts became a jumble of English prayers and French profanity. She was delirious with climax as they began piling up to the point where she thought she was having two at a time.

Edward sensed that she was becoming overwhelmed and slowed down to a pace that allowed him to watch his long shaft disappear inside her. He put one hand on her waist and let the avalanche of pleasure wash over him.

Bella wanted to feel his pulsing inside her and began to get excited for his release. She started moving in the exact same fashion as he had, allowing him to remain motionless. He groaned and combed his other hand through his hair.

The build-up was tremendous and when it was time, he held her in place while he plunged deep inside her and his whole body shuddered.

Edward remained inside her until he withered and kissed her back as he withdrew.

They recovered quickly and explored each of the four buildings. They were all the same, one big room up front and two small rooms in the back. There were no carvings on the walls, and they had nice soft sandy floors for them to sleep on.

* * *

The first day they slept in the north building because they already missed their friends in New York.

They floated in the water like dandelions on a river breeze. They slept well despite the new surroundings and woke with need.

Gravity was as low as the light so Edward let his hands see for him and they got an eyeful. Bella was seething with need and she leaned into his touch.

He wanted to kiss her first, everywhere.

She heard his thought but honestly did not think that she could wait another minute to feel him. Then again, the idea of building up to something colossal was as tempting as fruit on a tree.

_Put your mouth on me lover. _Bella insisted.

Edward immediately covered one of her salty nipples with his lips. His hair stood up in the water and swayed with his movements. He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheeks on her skin as he moved from one breast to the other. The velvet valley between them cradled him and he felt a peace that made his eyes prickle.

When he slid his tongue down to her belly his welcome and rough hands replaced his mouth as he gripped and squeezed her already lonely flesh. When he moved his tongue lower his hands followed and ended up on her already flexing behind.

They spun gently in the water, occasionally pushing off the floor with a foot, or a wall with an elbow. When Edward got down to her secret garden, she was upside down and plunged both her hands in the soft carpet of sand.

She held herself there but Edward floated down and lost his feet in the accommodating floor. He alternated between playful flicks and licks to probing adventures that made her heart threaten to start beating again.

She let her legs fall open, a wide V as Edward held her by the thighs. His fingers traced circles on the tender skin behind her knees as he supported and continued to delight in her. Bella listened in as he thought of the silky sensation on his tongue and the swelling bud of flesh that he was paying special attention to.

She liked it all. When he suckled her, when he plunged his tongue in as far as it could go, when he swirled around her candy mound in a frenzy. She climaxed once and then the flood gates were opened.

It seemed like every single touch after that made her shiver with fresh release. He backed away from her and she pushed up with her hands. A small cloud of dust followed her part way out as she flipped her body around in slow motion to face him.

Edward grabbed her by the hips and guided her to a sitting position on his thick extension as he stood. She hugged him tightly as he entered her completely. It was always better than she expected.

His strong arms were crossed at her back and she leaned into them so he could get a good look at her breasts. It was almost like she was teasing him though. He wanted to touch them but could not. He wanted to reach them with his mouth but could not.

Bella proved him wrong. Hearing his desire to kiss them, she grabbed her breasts from the sides and sat up tall on him as she brought them to his parting lips. Edward moved back and forth between them like a bee prospecting flowers.

He leaned her back again and started moving forcefully. The water made currents as it was displaced time and time again around them. It was an unusual sensation. Edward held her gently but he moved with a savage passion that seemed to have gripped them both on this trip.

They began to float again and when Bella's back hit the stone ceiling she planted her feet and kicked off hard. She sent them both to the floor and as the sand settled she straddled him. She held him down with both hands on his chest.

Bella felt her returning climax and slid up and down until the dizziness threatened to topple her from him like a baby bird in a motherless tree. Edward took control after that.

Edward rolled her onto her side after she tired and moved in behind her with one hand raising one leg. Once he filled her, he lowered her leg so she could lie in what would have looked like a sleeping position if not for the hard intrusion.

He moved slowly, knowing that he could let go at any moment and explode.

_Why don't you?_ Bella was worn out and ready for him to have his moment.

_Are you sure? _Ever the gentleman was Edward.

_I want you to._

Her words fueled him, they always did and he pressed his length into her tight passage only a few dozen more times before he began to pulse with satisfaction.

They fell onto their backs and into a late afternoon nap that was witnessed only by a few curious fish.

* * *

As much fun as the two of them had under the waves in their new archeological hideaway, it was the nights they spent dressed up and dancing that burned lasting memories.

The butcher had come through for them as Bella suspected and sold them one live pig each evening. They took it underwater where its death would be quick and it's blood would be warm. A delicacy that they had never thought to enjoy in New York.

However, the act of draining a drawing pig was hard to stomach for Edward. The first bite was the worst, tearing flesh until he got a spring of crimson life, after that, the animal in him took over.

He was getting used to it, to what he was but feared that it was going to be an eternal struggle. Blood was an aphrodisiac, and that helped.

Bella wore her plum dress with matching dyed shoes several days after she had finally taken Edward to see the churches in São Gonçalo_._ They loved it there but went back to Santo Cristo where Edward informed her that the music in the air was as light blue as the sky at noon.

They found a tiny little establishment called _Lima, _There were more people in the percussion heavy band than there were on the dance floor but that's the way the newlyweds liked it.

Edward's cream colored pants and shirt complimented her impeccably and they danced with their noses together so they could smile at each other and kiss at will.

Bella grabbed her dress and ruffled it at him occasionally and he discovered that after spending all day naked with her, the sight of a pretty dress covering her up was a new kind of exhilaration.

Bella found herself suffering from a similar sensation. She kept noticing how his fitted trousers bulged in all the right places but the delayed gratification was thrilling and she saw his body in a whole new way. His chin for instance, or his eyebrows. There was plenty of Edward to appreciate.

The drinks at Lima were strong but sneaky and the two of them began spinning around like kids at a party even when they were standing still.

"I hope you can find our way home tonight," Bella told him. "I can't even find the door."

Edward was feeling the effects of the sweet drinks as well but was certain that he would be able to carry her there. If he didn't swim in circles that was.

At some point in the night she kicked off her shoes and never saw them again. Alice would scold her for that later. They were the same shoe size and she had her eyes on the cute little heels.

They got by on what little Portuguese Bella knew before they discovered that whole sections of town spoke predominately Italian. Edward had heard an enormous amount of Italian thoughts and knew that it meant a community of sorts. That made things easier when shopping for their friends back home.

Edward had wondered why he was forced to carry a trunk that was twice as big as what Bella needed for the trip but after watching her pick out gifts at the late night squares he realized that he would be lucky if that was the only trunk he carried home.

He did happen to find a nice pair of cream patent leather shoes to match his outfit and that made him happy.

Bella found a carved wooden mask for Emmett, some cut glass buttons for Alice, a nose flute for Carlisle, a woven handbag for Esme, and for Jasper, a painted and compartmentalized bowl made from the top of a bear skull.

They kept their new acquisitions on the bed in their room and their clothes were laundered all together once a week by the hotel staff while they were "out for the day."

One night, they flew way up into the mountains above Rio. They stood atop Corcovado and even made love over a thousand feet above the harbor on top of Sugar Loaf Mountain.

There was not a lot of room at the top of the bullet shaped monolith so the couple made love sitting down. Edward with his legs facing one way and Bella with hers facing the other. They moved slowly, savoring the new air on their skin and calling out each other's names as only starlight witnessed their act.

Bella held Edward's head between her breasts while he moved his hips and grunted with pleasure. She looked down at the city and felt a sense of belonging. Rio was special that way. Edward felt it too and it wasn't just all the streetcars.

Rio hugged its citizens with the very hillsides and the people literally danced with joy. Edward and Bella learned several steps that were in vogue at the time. They danced the rice patty, the pickle squisher and the one foot.

Bella tap danced for a few people at an uptown tavern that smelled like chili powder. She was not wearing the proper shoes but borrowed a toothy young girl's sandals and used the hard soles to pound out some triple ball changes along with moving her hands in small circles. She almost looked like she was swimming.

They had never seen such a thing and Bella was admittedly rusty, but it captivated those present as if her feet had been on fire. She shuffled and scuffed her way across the stone floor and over to Edward who looked horrified.

_It's okay lover, trust me._

Edward obeyed and held out his hand. Bella lead him to the cleared dance floor, positioned her self next to him and kicked her left foot foreword as if she was kicking a ball. There was a small scraping noise as she touched the floor.

Edward instinctively copied her.

"Push," Bella said nice and loud. She then swept the same foot backwards, making another scraping sound.

Edward copied her.

"Squish," Bella instructed. She then brought her foot down hard.

Edward copied her.

"Stomp." Bella immediately put all three moves together, push, squish, stomp.

Edward copied her. His timing was dead on.

Bella changed her weight and did it with the other foot. Push, squish, stomp.

Edward copied her.

_Ready? _ Bella's question was loaded because she immediately did the move in rapid succession, altering between feet. One of the drummers caught on fast and began playing a paradiddle beat.

Edward waited for a chance to jump into the rhythm with her and when he did he had to rely on his vampiric skills just to keep up.

The crowd cheered and many of them attempted the simple steps. Everyone was having one of those carefree nights where new things were tried and no one cared how they appeared to the rest of the world.

Some men and women fell down with their inebriated efforts while others showed as much promise as Edward. Bella showed him about a half dozen more simple tap moves that night and he picked up on the loose but quick foot style with surprising ease.

Bella was not the only woman in the room who paid attention to the man who could dance.

She gave the shoes back to the young woman who proceeded to push, squish and stomp her way into the kitchen where there arose a great racket.

Bella and Edward seemed to cause a stir whenever they went dancing which was at least a dozen times in the three weeks they spent in Rio. Otherwise, they were unseen and unknown. They liked the dual aspect of their honeymoon.

Sometimes, when they got dancing too close for too long they kissed and caressed, onlookers be damned.

Usually, they weren't the biggest show in the room when it came to erotica but it was a taboo that they broke together. One of many adventurous firsts they shared that December.

* * *

They managed to get everything packed into the one large trunk and took off from the beach while the sky was still clinging to pink tendrils of sunset. They told and retold stories that they were both present for but could not help themselves. It had been a glorious honeymoon and they would always be in debt to Rio de Janeiro.

They made it to St. Lucia in good time and were met on the trail by Helix who had been expecting them that morning and had torches lit along the way. They were offered his room again, and again they attempted to decline the generosity.

"Get some sleep you two," Helix said. "I imagine you are all worn out anyway and there is plenty to do tomorrow."

Bella raised her eyebrow. "What do you have planned Helix?"

He only smiled, but she heard his thought, _We've been busy._

The couple slept from about seven a.m. to five o'clock in the evening, their usual, and when they woke up they washed up and dressed and wandered over to the mirrored dining room.

Helix was waiting for them alone. "Please come in and sit down. The others left for Italy about a week ago so it'll just be us three but it's safer with less people anyway."

"What's safer?" Edward was compelled to ask.

Helix answered by turning to Bella. "Bonita, I have another adventure for you two. Just jump, the rest will make sense."

With that, he jumped, leaving them both in silence.

"What should we do?" Edward asked.

"I trust him," Bella said shrugging. "I'm sure it's alright but let me go first."

Edward frowned. This was hard for him. She was right of course but he felt a tremendous compulsion to insist that he, the man, should traverse unknown territory ahead of his spouse.

Edward had already known that bravery and strength are human qualities and not exclusive to one sex or the other, but instinct was instinct.

Bella understood his struggle, but did not want to try to convince him of anything just then, so she simply jumped.

She did give him an apologetic smile but then she was falling through unexpected light. There were holes in the walls, like tiny windows, but each one held an angled mirror.

Twilight stabbed her with little rays of fading light as she fell past several human sized rubber baskets on thick rubber hoses hanging from yard arms along the walls.

She fell into one, could not avoid it actually, and immediately slowed down as the hose above her stretched and lowered her another hundred feet. When she came to a complete stop, just before she would have been flung upwards, she stepped out the low rimmed bucket and into another. She dropped only about fifty feet in the second one because she was not falling into it but stepping daintily.

She had several choices around and below her and repeated the steps twice more before she heard Edward cheering above her. He had caught on quickly and chose to free fall past one whole series of buckets in order to get a longer ride down on the next one.

He almost caught up to Bella when he saw a wooden ledge below him that ringed the well. Below that was hay, lots and lots of hay.

Edward stepped off and Helix shook his hand. "Well done! You too, Bonita!"

He walked through the only door on the platform and led them into a room that sparkled like the inside of a wet jack-o-lantern.

"It started out as a tin mine," Helix explained, "but we found something even more interesting." He led them down a passage to what looked like huge two wooden horse troughs with running water in opposite directions. "We wanted to build a rail line at first, but this is so much better don't you think?"

"What are you talking about?" Bella said as politely as she could.

Helix laughed loudly and the reporting echoes told her that the troughs ran for miles and miles. "We're below the sea," he said, suddenly seriously. "We can travel to eight other islands so far, including Anguilla."

Edward was stunned. "How did you accomplish this?" He had no idea where Anguilla was.

"Vampires!" Helix exclaimed. "We broke ground in fifty-five and should be in the Virgin Islands well before our 1905 goal."

"What's it for?" Bella asked.

"Not everyone can fly." He winked at her. "and we all have to stay inside during the day. This allows us to get to our neighboring islands during the day and it's far quicker than our surface boats. Speaking of boats..." Helix walked over to a few wooden canoes and pulled one over to the trough. "We eventually want to get all the way to Cuba but for now, how does a trip to Martinique sound?"

The trip was fast and dark and it was obvious that whoever designed the course wanted to give the traveler a thrill on the way. There were small but affective dips and peaks that made the darkness rush at them from many angles. Even vampire eyes couldn't see much more than the occasional wave.

They climbed up a spiral staircase to get to the surface of Martinique. A very long spiral staircase, but they hustled and made it up in about ten minutes. Well, Helix made it up in about ten minutes, Edward was up in two, and Bella flew up in the narrow curved space between the railing and wall.

All three had a wonderful dinner and Edward and Bella got to know how the tin mine funded the project that Helix and a small handful of vampires accomplished in just over forty years.

Edward wondered how long it would take to build a tunnel from America to Europe using vampire strength. He also wondered just how many vampires there must be in the area to warrant such an undertaking.

Helix answered all of his questions and as far as human consumption went, there was some progress but mainly because island vampires did not want to deplete their food source. Humans were sacred cows.

Bella changed the subject and delighted Helix by explaining how she had reinvented herself by becoming a stage singer. She told him how she built her small theatre in Paris ten years before and then how after meeting and changing Edward, had decided to move to New York City and build an even bigger one.

Helix had not been to New York but had heard many stories.

An invitation was extended to him and he agreed to look them up sometime.

Their trip back to St. Lucia was made in silence, the three of them were getting sleepy and the sound of the water was hypnotic.

Lanterns announced their stop and Helix reached out and grabbed a wooden post so Bella and Edward could step out. He went first and offered his hand.

When they were all out, Helix pulled the boat out of the water and turned it upside down. He then led them back to the rubber well.

Edward looked down below the round platform they stood on. The bottom of the well was filled with golden hay and the smell was strong. "How much hay is that?"

Helix looked down as well. "About twenty five feet worth."

"Has it ever been...used?"

"Not that I know of," Helix answered, "but it should do the trick if someone misses the last basket."

Bella was looking up and noticed ropes hanging from the bottoms of the lowest four buckets. Helix grabbed one and began pulling. "Getting up is even more fun." He pulled the bucket to the floor and when he stepped in, he shot up with a "woot!"

Edward was next, he pulled his bucket down and stepped in with a grin. He timed his jumps well and did indeed enjoy the trip up even better than the trip down. He noticed Bella flying past him when he was about half way up.

"That's cheating," Edward yelled but she only giggled and grabbed his hand when he appeared above the lip of the well looking for something to keep him there.

They slept into the evening once again and took off from the beach right after another delightful dinner with Helix.

The flight North seemed to take forever. They passed the time while Bella told Edward of the true island of Atlantis that was actually a ring of land around a volcano sticking up in the Mediterranean Sea. She told him that it would have been the southernmost Greek Island, not including Crete.

She also told him stories about English monarchies and some eye opening tales concerning her time in Ireland.

New York harbor appeared before them like a favor and they were standing in the rooftop garden before they even got their first sniff of garbage.

It was the morning of Christmas Eve, and they were expected.

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Thanks again to everyone reading this story. Real life is going to be pretty busy for us in October, so I will have to take the next two weekends off from updating.**

**But when I return, there will only be two chapters and an epilogue left to go. The end is drawing very near.**

**I do have three Cockeyed Optimist episodes scheduled to post in various fundraisers in upcoming weeks. Please see my author's page for more information.**

**MOG**


	29. Chapter 29: C'est la vie

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a sweet walking stick with a sword hidden inside.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Nine:**

**C'est la vie**

Benjamin Edward Black was born on the morning on April 6th, 1893.

The year had seen enormous success for his parents' business dealings in Canada, and the theatre that he would come to call his home had featured several one act plays written by English majors at Columbia College.

The new baby was delivered at home (in his parents' room) by his grandfather, who was assisted by Dr. Whitlock and Dr. McCarty. The infant boy immediately voiced his disapproval with the cold and the light. Even the smoky tint of the high windows that wrapped the room could not keep the daylight from flooding in. Benjamin was not impressed.

He was a big boy with dark skin like his father and swirls of black hair matted to his head. Within a moment he was wrapped tightly in a blanket made with love by Alice and handed to Rosalie.

Benjamin stopped crying as soon as his mother spoke. He squinted at her mouth as he listened to her familiar voice.

"He knows you." Edward's voice came in from around the doorway. He wanted to give his sister privacy, so he, Alice and Bella were all in the corner room. They were sitting on the same bistro chairs that had once been used during a phone call to Carlisle and Jasper during their near disastrous trip to the South.

"Come in here and meet your nephew," she called to her brother.

Edward stepped into the room and received something mentally from the baby at once. There were no words of course, but he felt safe, warm, and happy to hear Rosalie speak to him.

That was the beginning of a deep connection that Edward would share with the child. A connection that Bella was soon made well aware of. She followed her husband into the room, wiping her nose with one of Edward's handkerchiefs. She and Alice were both bursting with happiness for the young couple.

During the pregnancy, Jacob had been an absolute angel to his wife and the new parents were obviously happy.

Rosalie had become mildly weary of Jacob's doting by the end, but did her part by not getting mad at him just for trying to make her comfortable. In the final days, the rooftop garden became a place where she found the cool breeze as necessary as the blood in her veins.

She and Jacob would sit there for hours and discuss the kind of childhood their son would have in such a wonderful home. The theatre showcased several one act plays while her belly grew and she liked knowing that Benjamin would be exposed to so much.

Rosalie held the squirmy baby for a while longer and was smiling so much that her face hurt. Joy released a few tears from her eyes and they splashed against his tiny cheeks, making him twitch comically. She laughed through her sobs and looked over at Jacob. He was watching them with his mouth and his heart open.

"Would you like to hold your son?" she asked.

He nodded. He was happy to accomplish that much.

Rosalie handed the bundle over to Jacob, who gently took him with both hands. The baby was positively minuscule as he rested in the giant hands of his proud father.

"Hello, Ben." Jacob did not know what else to say so he repeated himself. "Hello Ben."

He felt almost panicked that he would never know what to say to his little boy.

Edward walked over and placed a hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. "He knows you too."

Jacob was weak with relief and smiled at the room. "This is my son," he whispered to those gathered around.

That simple, profound statement was what finally got Emmett to cry along with the rest of them.

* * *

By the time Benjamin was two weeks old, Jasper had convinced everyone that he was never going to turn into a wolf like his father had. His most persistent argument, and one he made the day the boy was born, was that he did not smell the same as Jacob.

Jasper clearly remembered meeting Jacob Black at Val de Grace Hospital in Paris. He had carried Dr. Cullen's son into the building and Jasper caught his earthy animal scent but could not identify it. Jacob had carried that scent every day until his injury under the streets of Brooklyn, where he had sacrificed himself to save Bella from Michael's savage grasp.

Jasper knew that he was right and even though the other vampires agreed that Jacob had lost a certain musk, Rosalie was still worried for her son's normalcy.

"Honey," Alice told her when she voiced her concern. "You just had a baby in the most beautiful theatre in the most exciting city in the world, and to top it all off, he will be living with a bunch of immortals. I think normalcy flew out the special vampire proof window a long time ago."

They were all gathered in the library, and laughed heartily at the truthful statement. Jasper was eager to continue with his findings but was patient. They were all in a good mood and he really wanted to put all worry out of the family's minds forever.

He had purchased some medical equipment and converted one of the bedrooms behind the stage into an impressive laboratory. He studied all the blood he had on hand, including a sample from the infant and some from his vast private stock of converted wine bottles and was very excited by what he found.

"I have proof that Benjamin is one hundred percent human." The only person not present for the announcement was Benjamin, he was napping in his room in the clouds.

Rosalie knew that Jasper was trying to help and his convictions were always convincing, but ever since she became a mother, she worried about that little baby morning noon and night.

"What makes you so sure?" She prodded.

"It's in the blood," he answered simply. "Ben's blood looks exactly like Jacob's blood does now. Exactly the same as a matter of fact."

"What makes you so sure that it's the blood that makes the difference?" Rosalie asked.

It was a good question, but not one he had expected. "It's always the blood," he said decisively.

That seemed to satisfy Rosalie, which surprised Jasper greatly. Jacob was also surprised at her acceptance after such a cliché response. He had honestly believed that the scent theory alone was enough to consider the matter closed and was sticking out his bottom lip and nodding his head.

"That's great news, Jasper. Thank you," Jacob responded, still nodding his head. He looked like the old men at the barber shop he and Carlisle visited every week. Edward, Jacob and Emmett did not require the services of a barber of course, but they were quite jealous of what looked like a jolly good time in the parlor.

As is frustratingly frequent for mind readers, most people label important items in their thoughts as "It." Edward and Bella both heard Jasper thinking about an "It" and how he had gotten off easy that no one had really asked about "It."

The celebratory mood in the room gave Emmett an idea and he herded everyone down one level to the lobby lounge, where he made drinks he called Red Peaches.

Bella and Edward also took advantage of the situation by discussing what they heard Jasper musing about. He had secrets, they knew that, but he always shared the ones that mattered. As far as Benjamin was concerned, they concluded he would not have used the words 'one hundred percent' unless he meant it.

If he was happy that no one probed medical details about his findings, who were they to think that it was even suspicious? Who would want to dissect something so complicated anyway?

Jasper did.

They decided to drop it anyway.

* * *

Benjamin sat on the bench in the rooftop garden, swinging his legs with individual rhythm. He and his family were five stories above Manhattan and watching the biggest fireworks display to have ever been ignited above the Hudson River. Light and smoke filled the midnight sky as the year 1900 stepped forward.

At six and a half years old, Benjamin had already taken his first ride in an automobile, a Duryea Motor Wagon, and his father had spoken of something called the Olds Motor Company often. Benjamin wondered how a new car could be old.

He watched the sky explode in brilliant reds and whites and had no idea that he was entering a century that would be so industrious that some would come to believe that it actually started a decade before hand.

Rosalie sat next to the excited but exhausted boy and held his hand. They had spent the crisp winter day in the park, just the two of them. She had learned to take days off from time to time to enjoy her growing boy. After all, he was the reason she worked so hard in the first place.

Alice sat on the other side of Benjamin on the bench and held his other hand. He liked Alice - she made funny faces and funny hats. They all tried to lace their fingers together but they were wearing gloves and the fingers kept getting stuck together. This made Benjamin laugh heartily and he barely noticed the fireworks display for minutes on end.

Jacob had finally gotten his chance to vacation with Thomas Edison that year. He was invited once again to Edison's winter estate in Florida and Rosalie was encouraged to accompany him.

Benjamin had spent those weeks with his grandparents at their home next to Central Park. The area was not as secluded as it once was, there was even a subway station a few blocks south. This pleased the elder Cullens of course, but it also meant the end of their country life.

While in Florida, Jacob, Rosalie and Mr. Edison played croquet in the morning and cards in the evenings and in between they discussed the new world of electronic discovery. Rosalie had Thomas convinced that if she had enough gears and steam, she could build a rocket to the moon.

He was impressed with the six patents she held by then but was downright dancing about the plans she had for the upcoming year.

He told them that he would offer to help but that they didn't seem to need it. He also told them that he would offer to invest but they didn't seem to need that either. In the end, he wished them luck and promised to look for Black and Black products in the future.

A package arrived a week after they returned home and in it were a few large looking tubes with wicks sticking out of them. Thomas Edison had sent them fireworks. He knew that they would all be up in their garden on New Year's Eve and cautioned them in a short letter to light the cylinders on the cement path leading to the gazebo.

They had taken his advice and lit the gifts off just before the show over the river started. Benjamin was not standing close to them but still felt that childlike mix of fright and delight. The adults looked skittish as well, but everyone laughed and marveled at the bright and loud devices.

Jasper was the only one brave enough to light them with matches borrowed from Carlisle. Esme gave her husband a stare that told him she knew why he had matches in the first place. He was supposed to have stopped smoking cigars many years before, but he looked so handsome in his canary yellow vest that she forgave him. If she was being honest, she had to admit she missed that taste on his lips.

After the fireworks over the Hudson were over and after Benjamin had been carried off to bed, Edward and Bella found some time to kiss next to the bird bath.

The stone monkey stood with two enormous palms turned skyward. Emmett had used it to serve drinks to Michael and all his friends once during another fireworks display that seemed so long ago.

Eventually, they went downstairs and found the rest of the vampires in Emmett's room. It was large and had been made by converting several rooms behind the stage into one low ceilinged suite. He loved it and decorated it with the latest and boldest design fads.

They toasted their friendship and a century of good times and Emmett told them about a vampire tavern he wanted to establish. He explained that if he could provide delicious and affordable alternatives to human blood, he would have a corner on the market by providing a much needed service.

Edward wanted to know where he wanted to build it.

Jasper wanted to know how he was going to keep humans out.

Bella wanted to know what he was going to name it.

Emmett had answers for all three queries: "I want it to be in Manhattan, uptown, preferably. Humans won't be able to get in, the door will be far too heavy, and I'm going to call it, "The Adam's Apple."

* * *

Benjamin was ten years old when he discovered that vampires were real.

It was an accident, of course. His parents had decided not to inform him until he was an adult and could understand the gravity of keeping such a powerful and damning secret.

As it happened, he was excited about the first ever baseball _World__Series,_ even though it was Boston and Pittsburgh competing and not his beloved Yankees. His Uncle Emmett took him to night games and his Grandpa "_Carly"_ took him to day games at "Hilltop Park" on 165th and Broadway.

He walked in on Edward and Bella enjoying an afternoon conversation about the last two productions they had completed, "Seagull" by Chekhov and Ibsen's "Enemy Of The People."

Edward and Bella each taught an evening class at Juilliard; she on Wednesdays and he on Thursdays. That evening, they were enjoying a few more moments together before Bella had to get to her class. The happily married couple had just decided to produce a musical at the Theatre of the Heart.

They were drinking from brandy glasses filled with rich dark blood.

The boy could see it on their lips and could smell it in the air. A thousand memories of that smell finding his nostrils came to him, flooded him. It was in the theatre almost every day but he never really stopped to think about it. They had been doing whatever with it for his entire life.

"Benjamin," Bella spoke very quietly.

They both heard his thoughts as he tore from the room. He believed that he was living with devils, or worse yet, devil worshipers.

The boy did not want to wait for the elevator and instead ran through the corner room and into his parents' room where the stone spiral staircase gave him sacred distance.

Rosalie was down in the shop working on a new clasp design and overseeing her husband as he learned how to work the glass projects she had going. They had overtaken the storage room below the stage and the shop now produced over ten thousand individual pieces of various complexities in a single year.

They had enough work to give many of their friends a piece of the pie and that only sped up production.

Benjamin ran in from the street entrance because the stone steps ended in the lobby lounge. His eyes were wide and filled with shocked tears.

Jacob was on his feet instantly, looking his boy over for a street injury.

Rosalie knew.

His mother always seemed to know. Even though Benjamin came from outside, she was positive that it had something to do with one of the vampires.

She knelt down and held out her arms. He ran to her and buried his face in her neck. He was not prone to outburst, had actually been a strong and courageous child from the beginning but he was badly shaken.

His father looked on as he heard Rosalie whisper.

"What did you see?" She put her hand on his head, his thick dark hair making her fingers disappear instantly.

Benjamin did not answer for a moment.

"Blood." His voice was shaky but loud.

Edward and Bella came down in the elevator just then and to his credit, Benjamin did not cringe away from them. If he had, Bella was certain that her heart would break in half.

"He just walked in," Bella said. "We had just woken up and..."

Initially, Jacob thought his son had discovered sex. "Oh hey, it's alright, it's natural, he has seen worse on the streets by now. We just need to teach him how to knock that's all."

Edward somberly shook his head. "We were having dinner."

Jacob's face went white as he looked down with new understanding at his son. He wasn't just shaken, he was frightened.

"It's time for us to have a talk," Jacob declared. "Would someone please tell Jasper and Alice to meet us in the auditorium?"

Edward said that he would and Bella asked why he chose the auditorium.

"Emmett is going to want to show off for him," Jacob reasoned. "And it might just make him feel better about the whole thing if he can be amazed rather than afraid."

Rosalie did most of the talking. She had been planning the speech for a decade but thought that she would have nearly another to refine it.

She told Benjamin that the people in his family were as good as angels and that they had been given both a blessing and a curse to live with. She cried when she spoke of her brother as a little boy growing up with her in Paris.

He believed every word of what his mother told him, especially the part about how the penalty for revealing what he knew to anyone, even by accident, was to see his entire family taken from him.

He was curious but cautious about their abilities and was glad that his mother and father were not vampiresas well.

Edward did not blame him.

Carlisle spoke up and explained how their condition was really medical in nature and that they were in fact suffering from what could be categorized as a disease.

"Can we catch it?" Benjamin asked.

Carlisle gave him the simple answer, the best for his grandson's age. "No."

Later that week, when his parents took him to see the Hanover National Bank building demolished to make way for the ever increasing vertical expansion in the city, he began to think about all the times his aunts and uncles were unable to make daytime events.

He saw signs all over in the following months, and couldn't believe how blind he had been. He thought about it often and began to wish that he had some of their powers.

It turned him into a questioner, a seeker of answers and explanations.

Benjamin was far too young to have been burdened with that kind of information and everyone in his family knew it. Edward and Bella were keeping tabs on his inner monologue and the way he was processing the startling new reality he found himself in, but so far they only detected a child's wonder and the desire to be strong and fast.

If Alice had heard his thoughts, she might have recognized some of the same things she had thought about as she obsessed over Bella during her final human days just before she tricked her best friend into turning her into a vampire.

* * *

By 1909, New York City was the fastest growing city in the world. It was already home to many buildings that seemed to scrape the very sky, but in truth it was still in its infancy where such matters were concerned. Even the remarkable Flatiron Building would eventually spend all its days in the shadows of much bigger but younger brothers.

Benjamin was a handsome and well-muscled teenager, who had completed his education early and was splitting his time between his parents' thriving metal works company and attending classes at four nearby colleges and universities.

He was stupendously intellectual and looked remarkably like his father, but he had no idea about what he wanted to do with his life and that produced an unease in him that sometimes showed on his face.

Rosalie's blonde hair had pale streaks in it by then, but her eyes were sharp and she coaxed things from her reluctant son better than anyone else could. She suggested that he be content with soaking in the education he was getting and that purpose would one day find him.

He thought it was easier for her to say than most. After all, every trinket she invented was another success that threatened to outsell the previous ones. She had eighty five retailers in various fields, all of whom clamored for her latest clever improvement or original devices.

Still, Jacob drove up and down the eastern seaboard for the first few days of each week, seeking new interests and training store owners how to use the newer inventions when necessary.

Some of Rosalie's inventions took a skilled hand to operate, except her improvements to the fishing pole. She made that sport far easier and, if possible, more fun.

When he was younger, Benjamin used to go on those trips with his father in the summer months when school was not is session. He found out that his dad had hundreds of songs, scratched on paper scraps and hotel napkins, stored in the glove compartment along with the hand crank and a wool hat.

His father wrote elegant songs and emotional lyrics. Benjamin could appreciate them as he had been taking piano lessons from Edward and Bella his entire life.

Benjamin was indeed considering a sincere pursuit of music as a career but did not feel a calling to it like he expected he should. Still, he attended Juillard as well as NYU and Cornell, in order to get into certain classes taught by specific professors. His favorite class was at Columbia University, one of only nine _colonial__colleges_ in the country, and the history professor there reminded him of talks with Jasper.

He had carefully considered the fact that his Uncle Edward had been human at one time like his mother and his parents and had therefore been infected somehow. He still did not know if he would be willing to miss the sun for an eternity, but the possibility had been very appealing from the beginning.

He was popular with the ladies and his parents offered him a generous curfew, which he broke only once.

The attention from girls made him uncomfortable. Other men seemed to know how to play it cool around a pretty girl, but women were just snorting and giggling messes in his presence and all he wanted was to have a real conversation with a person who smelled like coconuts and who was not his mother or his Aunt Alice.

Bella smelled like flowers and his grandmother smelled like vanilla.

Emmett had indeed opened his tavern and was quite literally the toast of the New York vampire community. The Adam's Apple also gave him the ability to gauge the atmosphere in the underground vampire society.

Emmett made drinks so wonderful and had so much blood content that one a day for most vampires would be enough to eliminate the need to harm any humans at all. It was by no means the beginning of a new era, but he was trying.

Alice was happy being the rich wife of a surgeon. She and Jasper had married in Kentucky, under the very tree they had sat in on July 3rd, 1892. He bought her that house, and since the previous owner had been killed (an unsolved mystery to everyone except Alice & Jasper), it went cheap.

Everyone attended the southern wedding. Benjamin had been about four years old at the time and maintained that his only memory of the event was the long ride in the glass topped carriage.

Since then, Jasper had acquired his American medical license and worked as a children's surgeon, repairing cleft palates in pre-mature infants and giving babies with _spina__bifida_ a chance at a normal life.

He arrived at the hospital before dawn on work days and stayed until after sunset. It was not uncommon for any surgeon to hold such hours, but Jasper slept only four hours at night because of his extra-curricular activities. He also insisted that he took a two hour nap in his office every day.

Alice, Bella, Rosalie and Esme were almost always on foot, their heels clipping along the sidewalks at night. By the time the first decade of the twentieth century came to a close, they were known as the four winds of Manhattan.

* * *

Edward and Bella performed together on stage in the spring of 1911. He played a gorgeous dark blue stage grand piano, a twentieth anniversary present of sorts, while she sang with her usual effortless skill.

Edward sang as well, a few nice duets with his wife, and once he even performed a beautiful song solo that Jacob had written the year before. Bella sipped a cup of tea off stage and wept.

Over half of the songs that night were written by Jacob Black, the others were originals Bella and Edward had written together. His favorite was a song called "Confessions of a Clown" but she much preferred the works they performed in French.

His hands and her voice. It was magic.

The audience was awed by the grace and talent that stood before them and the occasional treat of hearing the couple sing together was sublime. Goose bumps were cheap that night and a few men borrowed back the handkerchiefs they had lent their wives earlier in the evening.

It was supposed to be a special and singular evening, but after tremendous uproar, threatening on the verge of ugly, they agreed to extend the engagement for a few nights, weeks, and then months.

In the end, they ran "Black Magic" for ten weeks. It was one of the most well-attended and talked about events of that year. Jacob never stopped blushing.

That was also the same year that Bella finally published a skinny novel about a plucky would-be detective in the guts of Manhattan. "A Rose by Any Other Name" chronicled the adventures of Rosalie, a file runner for the New York Police Department who was constantly pushing cops in the right direction with her keen observation and clever analysis.

It had a modest reception by the press and the readers, but it made a lasting impression on her eighteen-year-old nephew. He loved the story and praised her writing. He didn't know it yet, but it would be a life changing impression.

Benjamin had several frank conversations with his family about the subject that he largely avoided since discovering that it was a subject at all, but as his education failed to bring him peace from his restlessness, he began asking questions.

He started with Edward. He thought his uncle would be evasive, but instead shared what he remembered of his murder and how Jacob had saved his life by running him from his house to his new girlfriend, Bella.

"My father saved your life?" Benjamin had always admired his sweet but serious father and it was he who suggested that Jacob's songs be performed before an audience. His discovery of the glove box full of songs was shared with his musical aunts and uncles and they pressed Jacob for the melodies.

Edward laughed. "Your father has saved my life no less then...four times and I bet the number would be even higher if you asked Alice or Jasper...well maybe not Jasper, but Alice AND Emmett. Oh yes, he's saved Emmett's behind a few times as well."

Benjamin narrowed his eyes. "Why would anyone need saving after becoming a vampire? And why on Earth would you need a _human_ to do it?"

Edward's mouth only fell open a little bit but Benjamin saw it.

"Edward?" The kid could really lean into a guy.

"Maybe we should go find your parents," Edward answered finally.

Benjamin folded his arms. "Oh, did I get to something good?"

Edward stood up. "That's not the word I would use, but if you are asking about why your father would be in the vampire rescuing business, then I think it's only fair to let him tell you that tale."

Benjamin had to admit that it was a great way out of the interrogation and since the smell of dinner was already turning corners, he decided to wait until he could ask the whole family.

Esme and Emmett, with some help from Carlisle cooked peach chicken and crisp green beans with enough mashed potatoes to dress the set of "The Winter's Tale" in faux snow.

Benjamin mentioned how he had heard that Jacob had saved Edward from death several times in Paris. He asked for details which were provided by his father and anyone else who had anything else to add, like Esme.

Benjamin just sat back and waited for the conversation to turn to other instances where Jacob had been heroic and long after Alice and Emmett had each told a story about vanquishing bloodthirsty vampires in Paris, he calmly turned to his father.

"What were you?"

It all happened so naturally that no one even thought of it as the big other secret that they all had, but the passing down of family history. Benjamin did that. He made them feel that it was time to share.

Jacob told his son about the argument he had with his father on his fourteenth birthday and how he had gotten so angry that he had changed into a wolf. He knew that most of the people at the table did not know the story, and as he shared it he felt more relief with every word.

At one point, Jacob stopped to clear his throat and Benjamin grabbed his hand. "It wasn't your fault. You know that?"

Jacob didn't know, but hearing his own son speak so certainly gave him a stitch in his heart that he never believed possible.

Jacob told him about his life as a shapeshifter and his relationship with Bella when they were both new to the godly powers they each possessed. He talked about how it felt to shift, and what it sounded like.

Esme remembered his loud crackling transformation in the dining room of their Paris house, and how it looked like it hurt him greatly to perform the feat.

Benjamin listened intently. If he had questions, he was keeping them to himself and when Bella tried to listen to his thoughts, she only received a transcription of Jacob's words.

When he spoke of Michael, Bella stiffened. She did not like remembering how close she came to losing Jacob in the confrontation with her maker. She was still not prepared to accept his current mortality despite a discrete gathering of gray hair above his right ear.

Benjamin looked from his father to anyone else who briefly picked up the story, all the while keeping his mouth gently closed and his head cocked to the side the way Jacob did when he was learning something new. He never let go of his father's hand.

When it was over, he leaned back and asked his questions, an hour's worth, and they held nothing back. He even asked if he would be allowed to pursue immortality, and to his surprise from the way they all looked they seemed to know he was bluffing.

"There's something you need to know about Bella and myself," Edward told him. "We can both read your thoughts, everyone's thoughts. We watched you closely when you were about sixteen..." He looked over at Bella, who nodded her head. "But we know that you are disgusted by us in some ways and have nightmares about being turned."

Edward thought about taking a step towards the boy, but decided against it. "You need to know that none of us would ever harm you."

"I'm not worried about one of you," he said quietly. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?" He sounded like he was ready to drop the matter altogether and go back to asking Bella when she was going to begin her follow-up to her detective novel.

"Well," Rosalie was not going to let the moment escape when they could unburden themselves. "We didn't really tell you much about the book Michael was obsessed with...but it's gone now."

Jasper shifted his eyes to Jacob. The book was not exactly gone, but it was safe.

Benjamin thought for a moment. "I don't care about the book."

* * *

Emmett believed that Manhattan was home to over two hundred vampires by the year 1914. Half of them were over a century old, but the other half were young and revolutionary.

He took it upon himself to council them and, if necessary, rebuke them if they disrupted the harmony of co-existence. He was seen as a big brother or even a father to many of them and was generally successful in keeping them on the right path.

The Adam's Apple developed a reputation that brought in vampires from all over the East. On any given night, one could hear a Bostonian accent competing with a Massachusetts accent and during the day was when Emmett made his real money.

Twenty feet below his tavern floor was a secure vault that held over sixty private rooms. It was like a vampire hotel and it was always full on the weekends. There was a common room with a rich library and a radio that was connected to an antenna on the roof. Each room had electricity and a complementary pint of that day's special.

He had hired Lawrence and Yan early on to tend bar and made Boston an offer he could not refuse as bouncer. The business ran flawlessly, its daily expenditures were nearly thirty dollars, but their morning deposits, usually made by Rosalie, were in excess of fifty five dollars on slow days.

He had banked over a hundred dollars in one day on many occasions and once did a three hundred and seventy dollar weekend.

Edward and Bella frequented his thriving establishment as did Jasper and Alice, but he would never let them pay.

So they tipped heavily.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie and Jacob all knew of The Adam's Apple but had only been inside once, before it opened.

Benjamin found out about it when they all had their talk in the green room of the theatre and he was even given the address, but only to insure that he kept his distance. He was all but happy to oblige.

Lawrence told Emmett one day that he didn't know if the city would ever stop growing and they both liked to imagine a metropolis that scraped the moon and had huge floating platforms in the upper and lower bay.

The group of friends had many good times with Emmett in his downtown digs, but Jacob's absence never escaped Bella. His mortality revealed itself with each new eye wrinkle and a subtle change in his voice.

The two of them had long talks in the garden and spent the whole time pinching each other just to make sure that they weren't dreaming. They were the two most lonely, yet loving people on the planet for centuries and would now spend the rest of their lives in the arms of a spouse. In Jacob's case, holding a child as well.

Benjamin had celebrated his twenty first birthday by then, but had no more direction than when he was fifteen. He was the smartest person any of them knew and was eagerly hired by all of them to assist with whatever projects they had in the works.

With the developments in photography, Alice had begun designing for overseas clients and gave Benjamin steady employ as a clothes model. He had the handsome face and young body for the work and he got to spend time with his Uncle Jasper, who was her photographer. He would make Benjamin feel less foolish during the photo shoots by discussing the latest breakthroughs in medical science.

"Just getting people to wash their hands has been the single biggest progression of the last decade," Jasper would say almost every time. He always felt close to his nephew despite the young man's disinterest in his unique collection of weaponry or offers to teach fighting technique.

Jasper was the one who gave Benjamin his first drink of alcohol. The two had been in Jasper and Alice's wing of the theatre and sitting near his vast collection of bottles that Benjamin knew by then were filled with blood.

Interspersed between the bottles with ink scratched corks bearing names were a few merlots. Benjamin had been seventeen and did not care for the tart liquid that looked too much like blood for his comfort.

Later, he suspected that Jasper was testing him somehow.

When Alice was done sending him off to don a new outfit and Jasper was done capturing a few natural poses that showed off the entire ensemble, they would play records until sunset and then go walking until they found someplace new to eat.

They had fun, the three of them, and Benjamin felt lucky to have friends like Jasper and Alice.

* * *

In 1916, the world was on edge and so was Benjamin.

He was a well-respected young man in his community with many accolades and a modest purse, but he did not like the Jack-of-all-trades reputation he had with the ladies.

They looked at him like a cute dog that they would like to pet but not take home.

That June he went on a long road trip with his father and the two of them took turns driving the Black family's 1915 Oldsmobile roadster. They drove to Chicago and back and the roads were smooth but dusty.

Benjamin was curious one afternoon when the sun was just giving their ears a good tanning and opened the glove box to see if his father had more songs inside. He was inundated with all manor of paper, all with his father's handwriting.

"You've been busy."

Jacob just smiled.

"Do all of these have melodies?"

"Yup."

"Do you still sing them for Mom?"

"Yup."

"Does she like them?"

Jacob looked over at his son and smiled broadly. "Of course she does."

Benjamin looked back down at the stack of songs in his hand. He kept them below the windshield because they were going pretty fast, 35 miles per hour, and they were liable to scatter all the way back to New York if he did not keep a tight hold. "How do you remember them all?"

Jacob laughed and for a moment, the car was not the loudest thing on the road. "It's a long drive son, even with company, you'll see."

"I remember." The trips Benjamin took with his father when he was younger were not nearly as long but he had clear memories of extended bumpy silence.

"Go ahead, pick one," Jacob said.

At first Benjamin was puzzled but then grinned and reached into the glovebox. He retrieved the first piece of paper he felt and unfolded it.

"Rose Petals."

Jacob took in a great big breath. "Well, that's an interesting one, you see, I usually hear piano in my mind when I write songs but with this one I hear some guitar, Spanish guitar actually. Something delicate, but commanding. It's a tad high for me and the road is pretty bumpy here so..."

"Quit trying to wiggle your way out of it and sing." Benjamin liked to encourage his father. Even after all the exposure he received when Edward and Bella performed many of his compositions, Jacob rarely spoke of it.

Jacob began singing immediately. It was a tenor song alright, but he handled it fairly with his voice rasping along with the motor. He sang about a woman that was embarrassed by her beauty but not holding back. The title of the ballad not withstanding, it was clearly about his mother, Rosalie.

Benjamin listened to his father sweep up and down a simple but sublime chorus and began thinking of how well the song would go with Bella's third installment of "A Rose by Any Other Name."

Largely due to Benjamin's constant badgering, Bella penned and published a follow up to her first novel and it was far more successful than the first. Well, at first it was more successful than the first, then everyone went back and bought the first which made it the most successful than the second again.

The third book had come out only days before the two men left for their trip and even Bella did not get an advanced copy. Benjamin gobbled the whole thing up in a night but brought it along with him because he was positive that he missed many hidden secrets in what easily became his favorite in what was being called the _Subway__Rose_series.

Bella constructed elaborate capers that were effortlessly foiled by the smart thinking and observant gal whose pluck has gotten her into more hot water then an ear of corn. Rose as a main character was witty, yet very old fashioned. In one sentence, Bella described her wardrobe.

_"Rose dressed that day like any other. She looked like an Amish mud plucker and her shoes were so sturdy that any soldier would trade for them in a heartbeat."_

Benjamin loved her humor but she baked it up with genuine suspense and well thought out scenarios that were as original as they were believable.

Jacob finished his song and Benjamin clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Dad. That was one of your best."

Jacob did not agree, but took the compliment and kept his eyes on the road for a while.

When Benjamin brought up the book, Jacob admitted that he had read a rough draft a few months earlier.

Benjamin wanted to be hurt, but truthfully, he understood and was glad that the two of them could continue discussing future developments for their favorite fictional character. He seemed interested in crime solving in general and his father suggested a police detective as a worthy vocation.

The idea seemed to stick and they talked over his possibilities in law enforcement. They even kicked around the idea of him striking out on his own as a private investigator.

Four days later and Jacob was still trying to discuss a future for Benjamin in the investigatorial arts. It seemed to unitize nearly all of his talents and most importantly, seemed to spark something in him. Benjamin seemed far away and Jacob wondered if it had just been another false lead.

The road trip was a long one, two weeks total, while they went all the way to Chicago and back. The roads were smooth almost all the way there, but great sections were dusty enough to require them both to wear goggles.

It was then, when they both had big round lenses over their eyes and leather wrapped around their heads, when Benjamin told him what he really intended to do with his life.

"America is going to enter the war soon. I can feel it."

"It's overdue," Jacob stated, nodding his head.

Benjamin was driving and it made him brave. "They're still fighting in Verdun."

Jacob sighed. "I know."

"When America declares war on Germany, I'm going." Benjamin held his breath, waiting for his father's reply.

Jacob sighed again. "I know."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**Hello and welcome back to Brutte Parole. In the last four weeks I have moved to a new house, fought off the flu, wrote a new Cockeyed Optimist for a fundraiser and worked about a dozen double shifts. I regret that it has taken so long to post a new chapter but we might as well savor it because it will all be over soon.**

**Special thanks to Just Duckie for creating my "Baby Spoon" avi.**

**The last chapter will post within a few weeks and an epilogue (complete with a new song that Jenn says is my best so far) will follow shortly after that.**

**The whole thing should be wrapped up by well before Thanksgiving and then I will begin a story called "Exposure" that I am writing with my wife, RandomCran. It will post on her FF page so if you haven't put her on author alert, you might want to.**

**Thanks to you all for reading and your continued kind reviews. I an indeed fortunate to have you as friends.**

**MOG**


	30. Chapter 30: C'est la guerre

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear owns a little cloth monkey with magnetic hands and feet that he keeps on the metal door of the circuit box.**

* * *

**Chapter 30:**

**C'est la guerre**

Even the immortals were surprised at how quickly New York City grew teeth. By early 1917, it was simultaneously a high class darling and a sweaty gritty devil. The gang activity that had plagued the city during the mid-1800's had been refined and was operating in the top floors of the banks downtown.

Vampires had always been amongst the most wealthy citizens in New York City and chose to regulate their own affairs.

Benjamin Black was a true son of the city. He knew every doorway and every person leaning in it. He was acquainted with every shadow and with a silver pendulum hanging around his neck, he walked freely and unafraid. He mostly walked the streets instead of taking the mighty subway or one of thousands of cabs that roamed the streets like stray cats.

He knew that one day he would leave the only home he had ever known to fight for Europe's freedom. He also knew that he might never return.

Every day was a 'hello' and every night was a 'goodbye'.

He was a college graduate with a degree from Columbia and persued his long held interest in private investigation, but his heart was not in it. He kept his feelings to himself about the war and felt like he was just waiting for someone to make his life's decisions for him.

He had long since redecorated the stunning room at the top of the tower. The only thing that remained was the square grand piano that had been built there. He painted the walls a rich plum color and had several large round bookshelves that stood in the room like trees. His bed was small but comfortable and sat under the east window.

After heavy consideration over how to break the news to his mother, Benjamin came to a simple conclusion and spoke with his mother as plainly as he had with Jacob on their road trip.

Her reaction was far from the quiet reservation offered by his father. Although she was fiercely proud of him for his character and his presumed sacrifice, she believed that he was only going to be wasted on some one else's fight.

That comment sparked a debate on America entering the war in general, and it continued for fifteen minutes before Rosalie circled back to her main point.

"There is no way in Hell you're going over there!"

"They need our help," Benjamin reasoned. "And it won't end with them, we'll be next if we don't do something to stop them now."

"Wilson has already said that we're not getting involved." She looked at him triumphantly.

Benjamin stood quietly, too quietly. Rosalie knew that he was always quietest before he made his most compelling argument. She rapidly tried to think of what she had missed. It was not as if he could just go over and join the French army.

Or could he?

"Ben, no." Her eyes filled with that wide panicked look that mothers get when they think it's too late to stop a train wreck. The Blacks were on the rooftop garden, a location chosen to provide a calming atmosphere, but instead the sun baked the back of Benjamin's neck while he watched his mother turn to Jacob in frustration. "Say something to him."

"Benjamin." Jacob spoke not with authority, but with friendship. "Couldn't you at least wait to join up with American forces when we go in?"

"What do you think I've been doing, Dad?"

"Wait a minute," Rosalie said turning back towards Benjamin. "You've been planning this?"

"I've been waiting for President Wilson to see what I see." Benjamin was calm but his eyes burned. The debate had gotten his blood up and he knew that his mother reacted better to soft words and hard points.

Rosalie had no idea how she had gotten into her present situation. One minute she was putting her foot down about him going at all and the next she was bargaining with her son for more time. She had worked closely with him on a project that winter and had discovered new things to love about the son she presumably knew so well. She was certain that she would be giving up too much if she let him go, but ultimately knew that it was not her decision to make.

"Ben," she said quietly. "If you have your mind made up..." She knew in her heart that he did and almost could not continue. "...Please just wait for Wilson. He's still furious about the _Lusitania_ and your Uncle Edward says that he will declare war eventually."

"Mom, I can't wait for 'eventually' any more...wait, Edward said that?"

She nodded her head. They all had come to understand that Edward was a fantastic prognosticator when it came to politics. He seemed to feel the mood of the people and read the minds of the leaders. In some cases, it was literal as well as figurative.

"Just give it a few more months," Rosalie practically begged him. "At least enough time to let your Uncle Jasper teach you some of his best combat moves."

"I think the Army or the Merchant Marines will teach me that," Ben answered quietly, looking down at the wide stone path leading from the door to the gazebo.

Jacob cleared his throat and the noise raised his son's head. "No one can teach you what Jasper can teach you. Even if you face a vampire, he can teach you ways to win."

This intrigued Benjamin and he looked up at the south wing of the theatre, they all did. Sure enough, Jasper and Alice were standing there, watching from the other side of the protective glass. Alice was visibly furious at Benjamin for wanting to go to war and scowled down at him. Jasper waved.

Ben looked back down once again as he gathered his thoughts and then addressed his parents. "You will support me if I wait until America enters the war and if Jasper trains me in combat." Benjamin did not state it as a question.

"Are you going over there to fight, Benjamin?" His mother asked before giving an answer. "Is it a battle you want?"

"No!" He was shocked, surely she knew him better than that. "I want to work with the radios, or service the airplanes or something. They must need smart guys like me to help in areas like that."

Rosalie shook her head and smiled despite another tear following the path to the side of her nose. "You'll probably end up as a general and come up with a way to end the whole thing."

Jacob snorted. He agreed with his wife.

"Is that a yes?"

She answered Benjamin with a hug, but left a wet patch on his shoulder.

* * *

President Wilson declared war on Germany on Benjamin's 24th birthday.

A sign.

Educated men were in high demand for officer positions in France and he was welcomed into the service with bright eyes and firm handshakes. He was offered a commission as Private First Class and put on a train to a fort in Vermont where he spent the next ten months training in horsemanship, weaponry, battle tactics and basic survival.

He had spent nearly three months with Jasper before he left for the tall Vermont forests and was as lethal with a blade as any human could be, but he did not need a weapon to kill effectively and silently.

Jasper had prepared him for several different combat scenarios.

"Hit the windpipe hard enough, and you can move on to the next target," he had instructed. "It is by far the best bet for hand to hand fighting, but if you can't get in there then go for a kick to the knees. Sometimes you've got to get them on the ground before you can get them in the ground."

Jasper made sure that the young man he had come to know as a little brother could release himself from any hold and administer ruthless and unexpected blows at will. It was a good thing too because Benjamin turned out to be a terrible shot. A fact he revealed in his first letter home.

_My dearest family,_

_I hope you are all well and know that I already miss your faces and voices._

_I arrived at Fort Ethan Allen at midnight and when we all got off the train the commander told us to line up and stand at attention. Our backs were to remain perfectly straight._

_We stayed like that for an hour before it started raining and when a man asked when we were going to be allowed to sleep, he was beaten and thrown in the mud. We were instructed not to speak after that and believe me, no one else did._

_We stood for eight hours and when the sun came up we were led into a large barracks where we were given bread, pears, deer jerky and told that we had just been given our first lesson in survival, remaining silent despite despair._

_I know this must sound peculiar but I loved it and I love it here. I understand that they need to break us down in order to build us up into the soldiers they need us to be. I think I will make a good soldier and the officers have already taken a liking to me._

_I am glad that Uncle Emmett made me ride horses in the park that summer, it proved quite useful because I did not look like a buffoon when I mounted one. An officer took me out to shoot his French rifle. I was horrible. I was aiming at a tree that was only fifty yards away but I managed to hit one much further back and obliterated a squirrel in the process. He thought I did it on purpose and I did not correct him._

_It is going to be a terribly long wait before we get to be of use and I think that weighs heavily on our commanders' heads. They refuse to tell us anything about the war, but I can tell that they're getting bad news from the European western front._

_I hope you know that so far I have no regrets. I felt right the moment I stepped off the train, so please do not fret for me. I'm right where I need to be._

_All my love,_

_SPC Benjamin Black_

_Fort Ethan Allen, Vermont_

_July 14th, 1918_

Rosalie was upset by her son's letter. She despised their method of conditioning. Jasper told her that it didn't sound that bad to him and his previous experience in American military gave his statement some weight, but she was still filled with worry.

Benjamin wrote about once a week and thankfully his letters contained no more stories on their methods of training.

Summer brought warmer weather to Vermont and Benjamin thrived in camp. He was never going to be the best horse rider, but his battle wisdom was tested and retested. He was told that he was indeed being groomed for a command position in France. He had already been told that Paris was his likely destination and unless things had changed drastically that was a location far removed from the fighting.

He knew that his mother would be happy, but he was disappointed.

By the time winter had returned to the northern land, Benjamin was burning to contribute to the war effort. America had sent only a few thousand men by then and their ineffectiveness was a forgone conclusion that was getting a lot of play in the papers back in New York.

His letters home continued to describe his latest successes in training exercises as well as descriptions of the various characters he shared his camp life with. Since he was not given much information about the ongoing war, he remained upbeat.

_My most wonderful family,_

_It has gotten a lot colder here in a hurry which means that we will be training in harsh weather until we're released but I am instructing my squad to wear two pairs of socks to avoid frostbite._

_It really isn't all that bad for me, I have a bunk close to the fire but I give it up for any of my men who falls ill. Sorry, Mother._

_I have been given a horse to train on and we are getting along better than I expected. I can shoot targets while riding now. It has been a real victory for me to accomplish this and my reputation continues to grow as America's Secret Weapon._

_They upgraded my rank yesterday and I have a great group of men; they are as strong as they are smart and I am helping to motivate them through this dreadful weather._

_Please send newspapers, they might confiscate them but try anyway. I am desperate for information about the war._

_All my love,_

_SGT Benjamin Black_

_Fort Ethan Allen, Vermont_

_Dec 2nd, 1917_

Alice immediately set upon knitting as many pairs of long-johns as her vampire fingers would allow, and when Jasper and Emmett got wind of her project, they brought her to the Adam's Apple where they all whipped out a dozen pairs a night.

Just in time for Christmas, boxes began arriving at Fort Ethan Allan addressed to SGT B. Black from The Theatre of the Heart, New York City. After a week of consistent deliveries, Benjamin wrote a response and answered a few questions regarding the sizes found inside a few early packages.

_My dearest Alice and the rest of my splendid family,_

_My what an undertaking you have begun. Thank you and anyone else you roped into knitting for the supply of long johns. (Or as my Southern soldiers call them, Drawrs)._

_Your sizes are right on the money and fit nearly all the men but since you asked, we could use two pair made for men about the size of Father or Boston. We also have boys at the fort and they are so cold that I can hear their knees knocking tougher most nights. If you can send about five that would fit a ten year old , that would make a real difference for them._

_If you have been sending any papers with your letters, I haven't gotten them. My mail is always open when I receive it. Please do not attempt to write about it though because I could then lose your words and they are far too important to me at the moment. _

_Actually, we have something we're working on, I can't say anything about it at for obvious reasons but let's just say that we might get all the unrestricted information we want soon._

_You are all so wonderful and since the majority of these men get nothing by way of post, this has been like a Christmas miracle for them._

_(I gave a pair to my commanding officers and they let all my men have coffee with me in the morning)._

_Christmas Wishes,_

_SGT Benjamin Black_

_Fort Ethan Allen, Vermont_

_Dec 24th, 1917_

By the first week of January, all the long-Johns had been sent and another letter arrived from Benjamin.

_My sore fingered family,_

_Well...I've been promoted again._

_Best of all, I will be sent home on February 12th. I will then ship out from New York sometime in June. This means that I will have four months to spend with you before I leave._

_I can't begin to express how happy I am to know that I will be with all of you during the Spring._

_The long johns continue to warm our bodies and even the boys in camp have stopped spilling half their coffee due to shaking hands. You have made a real difference here and you have the tearful thanks from many men who haven't cried since the day they were born._

_See you soon!_

_SSG Benjamin Black_

_Fort Ethan Allen, Vermont_

_January 11th, 1918_

He returned home on Valentines Day and his mother summed up what they were all thinking.

"Look how big you've gotten!"

Benjamin called everyone sir and ma'am for about a week before they broke him of the habit.

* * *

Rosalie had made progressive changes to the way train cars were connected and that alone made her almost as rich as Bella by the time they all attended the St. Patrick's Day Parade in March of 1918.

They had a great view from the glass walled carriage that had long since been motorized by Jacob. He sat in the passenger's seat while Benjamin drove the lot of them to a spot on Fifth Avenue and 50th Street - directly across from the church his parents had been married in.

Benjamin enjoyed his freedom in New York and drank in the city like iced water on a hot day. He spent time with each of his family members. He even attended the Yankees season opener one evening with Emmett and Carlisle. The three of them sat together under powerful lights that made the field bright and visible from tall buildings, looking like a green clearing in a forest of brick and glass trees.

The Yankees defeated the Washington Senators in a close 5 to 4 game and they had a great time cheering and spilling more peanuts than they ate. Benjamin tried to capture the feeling and even the smell in his memory for later use when he was lonely and in need of comfort.

He went out with Jasper and Alice a few times, taking in theatre shows and dining at all the new eateries that had opened since his departure. It was amazing to him how fluid the city actually was and how much it could change in less than two years.

He had the opportunity to read Bella's ninth novel in what had been dubbed the "City Rose" book series by then. She had not published it yet; she was waiting for him to read it first. He had only wonderful things to say about the novel, but found a few typographical errors in her manuscript and she was grateful for his observations.

Her books had found an audience with younger people and she was proud of that fact.

Her newest novel was called 'Rooftops' and it introduced a new girl friend for Rose. Her name was Lily and Benjamin told Bella that if she was attempting to describe Alice she could not have done a better job.

He was still in the city in late May when the new book was released. It sold out of at least three bookstores that he knew of in the first night. Benjamin had been Bella's biggest fan from the beginning and was made to swear up and down that he was not the one who went around purchasing all the copies.

He told Bella that she was just going to have to learn to deal with the fact that she was a good writer, and as a result she was popular.

Edward took Benjamin out to Staten Island as the first day of June made their hearts heavy with Benjamin's impending departure. It was a special place for them, full of trees and big houses. The two sat and looked at the southern tip of Manhattan and talked.

"You're sure that they are sending you to Paris?"

Benjamin nodded his head. "As sure as I can be, but if they don't send us soon, there may not be a Paris to protect."

"What will they have you do?"

"I'll command my company," he said. "They say I might even get a machine gun."

"Wow, have you practiced with one?"

"Oh yes!" Benjamin used his hands when he spoke and nearly whacked Edward in the head. "I have a special four man team in my company who operate it. We have back-ups and I have about two days practice in all the positions just in case someone gets wounded."

"When are the allies pushing back?"

"As soon as we get there I hope."

"How many planes do you have?"

"Not as many as the RAF but thankfully, they are already in place and flying. We never saw any of that stuff, but we will when we get to Paris."

"How close were you to getting to work with the planes?"

"Not close. They had me marked as a commander from the beginning and according to my superiors would be a waste in the air. They think it's mostly a fad and that planes won't last in future warfare."

Edward chuckled. "Have you seen any of Alice's new drawings?"

"No, why?"

"She has drawn pictures of the sky filled with all sorts of flying machines. Winged planes, some kind of twirling hovering planes, and great big zeppelin's floating all over the place."

"That's amazing."

Edward nodded. "She showed me one a few weeks ago of a small metal house on the moon."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Are you scared?" Edward asked his nephew.

"About the house on the moon?"

Edward laughed. "About the war."

"Oh...Definitely."

"Good. Have you considered doing anything to help your chances over there?"

Benjamin turned toward his Uncle Edward. "Like what?"

Edward looked down. "Have you thought about going over there as an immortal?"

"No. It's not my path Edward, even if my path ends this summer. And besides, how am I supposed to run a company when I can't go outside during the day?"

"I knew you'd say that."

"Then why did you ask?"

Edward paused. "Your father wanted to make sure you were ready. You are. We just hope we don't lose you."

"He won't lose me, none of you will."

Edward sighed. "Say, what was it that you had brewing to get information about the war from camp?"

Benjamin lit up again and out came the hands. "We had to steal some things, which I am not proud of, but I put together a working radio and listened to the news reports right out of New York! We had it for the whole last five weeks we were there. I brought it home with me. I'll show it to you when we get back."

Edward nodded his head vigorously. "I'd love to see it. So you didn't get caught, huh?"

"Oh I got caught alright," Benjamin laughed at the memory. "They promoted me to Second Lieutenant."

* * *

Benjamin had made friends with the law enforcement community in New York long before his soldier/officer training. As a private investigator, he would normally have rubbed them the wrong way but had done so many favors for the police department that he was regularly allowed access to reports and witnesses.

Two of his close friends invited him to join them for their walking beat along Broadway about a week before he was due to ship out. It was breezy for a summer day in New York. He was grateful as were his uniformed escorts.

He strolled along with them from downtown up and watched as they peeked in on businesses and picked up trash. They took all morning to patrol about twenty blocks, and as they crossed 22nd Street and into the shadow of the Fuller Building the breeze almost took their hats off.

The building was triangular in shape and occupied a wedge of land that saw 5th and Broadway merge in a lazy X. It had been a landmark for Benjamin since he was nine years old.

It was nicknamed the Flatiron building and Benjamin thought it suited the place. He gazed up at it's rounded north windows as his friends gave each other a knowing look.

They were called Miller and Angus, and they led him over to a deli that specifically looked along 23rd Street. He was told to keep an eye out for loiterers along the buildings opposite the Flatiron as they ordered frankfurters.

Benjamin did not believe at first that he would witness any such random act of lollygagging but as the lunch hour grew nearer men began to line up as if they were giving out coins to anyone who did.

The officers returned with their franks half eaten and handed Benjamin his. They peered out the windows, crammed the rest of their lunches into their mouthes and then ran outside and along 23rd Street. They were a hurricane on the sidewalk, whacking the men in the rumps with long black clubs that were chipped from much more forceful work.

They were obviously serious about clearing the area and when Benjamin walked outside for a better look he heard them berate the men as they ran away. Still, they were smiling and laughing the whole time.

"What was that all about?" Benjamin asked when they returned to the deli's doorway.

"That was the 23 skidoo," Angus said.

"The what?" Benjamin believed that he may have heard the term before, but thought it was a dance.

"The 23 skidoo," Miller repeated his friend's words. "We were running off the perverts who want a free peep show."

"The what?" Benjamin was still confused.

"Watch," Miller said quietly as a group of women crossed in front of the Flatiron Building and the breeze that swept up the avenue blew every one of their dresses up. Some skirts went clear up over their heads.

Benjamin gaped and spun around so quickly that his frankfurter flew from his mustard slick bun and sailed in through the open door of the deli, where it disappeared into the shadows and only a wet plopping sound confirmed its total loss.

"We keep the streets clear at lunch time and in the evening rush hours so unsuspecting ladies won't be embarrassed by a cheering mob of degenerates." Angus lead him back into the deli and bought a replacement frankfurter. Behind them, another two girls were surprised by the strong air tide.

Angus took Benjamin's new frankfurter and walked outside with it. Benjamin followed as did Miller. They positioned themselves right in the middle of that wall, one officer on either side of him.

Every few moments a man would scurry around the corner with a scandalous desire and become wide eyed with shock at the sight of two officers and take off back the way he came.

"Someone has to do it." Miller shrugged.

The three men ate their lunch, averting their eyes mostly and discussing city politicos as well as the war.

"Did they teach you French?" Angus asked.

"I knew French," Benjamin said freely. "They liked that."

"When did you learn French?" Miller, who knew Benjamin since childhood was not surprised that his friend had hidden skills yet to be shared.

"My whole family is French. They had only immigrated to the city the year before I was born. My grandparents speak it to each other often and I spent enough weekends at their place to learn it."

"Oo la la," Angus whispered as the swift breeze lifted a young woman's dress up far enough to see that she was not wearing a girdle, or underwear. The woman smiled brightly at the men before continuing on her way.

Benjamin stayed with them on their beat until late afternoon when they neared the Theatre of the Heart just a block off Broadway at 34th Street. He invited his friends inside to show them the French handgun he had been given as an officer. It was sleek and artistic and made the other men practically drool.

When they left, they each hugged Benjamin as if they were keeping a hurricane from ripping him out of their arms. They also nodded politely to the two women who were standing on the lower promenade of the lobby.

"Did you have a nice time out with your friends?" Alice asked.

"I sure did...but you two should stay away from Madison Square...unless you want everyone to see your bloomers."

* * *

Benjamin shipped out for France early on June 8th. The sun was not even up, which allowed his entire family to see him off. He looked confident and they even watched as he gave a few orders on deck concerning their voyage.

They were proud and each clung to that feeling because the fear for his safety was lurking just underneath the surface and would devour their every good thought soon enough.

The ship churned the water up for a week and landed in Brest, prompting many of the men to observe that it was the last 'breast' any of them would see for a while. Benjamin and his company were sent to Paris, where he was instructed that they would join four others to form a small Paris battalion.

He was to report directly to his superior officer, who was a man by the name of Lieutenant Colonel Larry "Land Mine" Marshall. He was a gregarious bald man who told Benjamin that he lived up to his reputation at the end of their first conversation.

There were just under a thousand American troops guarding Paris by the end of June 1918, and Benjamin, with another quick promotion, was in charge of almost a quarter of them.

_To __all __my __loved __ones,_

_You will be happy to know that my assignments should keep me in Paris throughout the war. Fortunately, we have shipped over more men then I have ever seen in one place and in so many ships that we could have jumped from one to the other. They are in the field and have already re captured vital areas. (We call them theaters)._

_I have seen Notre Dame Cathedral and the Eiffel Tower already and I have good news and bad news to report. The good news is that the Cathedral is not the dilapidated relic you described, it looks brand new. Inside and out it has been restored and I attended a service there last evening._

_As for the bad news, it's for Father. I hate to tell you that all the experiments and gadgets that were once on top of the tower have been replaced with a bistro and a shop where you can purchase crude wooden carvings of the structure. _

_The view was amazing though and I thought of a story Bella told me once where she and Edward danced all alone up there one night._

_I will write as often as I can but with supply orders, duty schedules, transfers and personnel issues, my hand is cramped by noon._

_If my worst injury turns out to be arthritis, I shall count myself among the lucky._

_My very best to you all._

_Captain Benjamin Black_

_9 July, 1918, Paris, France_

_(They write the date backwards here so I'm getting in the spirit)._

Benjamin's time in Paris quickly turned from scheduling snafus to life and death decisions because he was included in command meetings and his input was required. At first he played devil's advocate; he always seemed to ask the "What if" questions that made his colleagues reconsider the decisions that Benjamin had poked holes in.

He became known as an aggressive strategist, someone who usually had an answer for every one of his posed questions. His plans usually ended with the same outcome.

"...And then we move in and warm ourselves by their fires."

Benjamin offered to go into the field in order to make impromptu battle decisions but his request was immediately denied. Once, he practically begged his Lieutenant until he was threatened with a court marshal.

"Getting shot is not the only way to prove that you fought in a war, Benjamin," his Lieutenant Colonel informed him. "Did I ever tell you how I got the nickname Land Mine?"

"No, sir." Benjamin had been asked this same question by his men when it became clear that he was favored by the seasoned officer. But he could only shrug his shoulders.

"Like you," he began, "I had brains. Skills that keep the machine running smoothly as well as leadership qualities that make men listen to me. I resented it because I was the best shot in the army. When the USS Maine was sabotaged, I was stuck in South Carolina sending telegrams."

"You know that was proven to be a boiler room accident, don't you?"

Lieutenant Marshall smiled. "I know. I know that while half of the country was succumbing to yellow fever, the other half was getting hit with yellow journalism. It didn't matter though, we were at war and I was not going to let the opportunity pass. I wrote to Commander Roosevelt and begged to be one of his rough riders."

Benjamin sat quietly but his eyes were filling with all the questions piling up in his head.

"I wouldn't believe it myself until I jumped off the boat outside Santiago, but I had been accepted after two interviews and a field test."

Benjamin was impressed. Not many men could say that they were a rough rider.

"We took San Juan Hill and just kept going until we were swimming in Havana Harbor."

Marshall looked at Benjamin for a moment, as if deciding how best to continue.

"I was directly responsible for thirty-three kills and I was shot in the arm and the leg. It was the most nerve wracking and frightening experience of my life and whenever I hear gunfire I twitch like a bug. Those damned automobiles are going to give me a heart attack, I swear to God."

He paused, looking down. When he looked up his eyes were hard and locked onto Benjamin's. "It was a mistake and thirty three faces haunt my dreams even before I get to sleep at night."

He sat back in his dark leather chair. "Now, I hate to tell you this, but you will be responsible for far more deaths in your position as our star strategist, make no mistake. But at least you won't see their faces."

"But doesn't that make me a coward?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you want to go...I just won't let you. You are in this war young man, ass deep and that means you can't go anywhere.

Benjamin sat for a moment.

"But then why do they call you Land Mine?"

"Oh that. I used a dud land mine as a latrine once."

_My most generous family,_

_I have received your care packages and I fear that my tears will smudge the page if I dwell on the nights of loneliness I was spared due to the comfort of your thoughtful gifts._

_I have been informed that the resistance has been so successful that they are predicting an end to the war by Christmas._

_Also, I have continued exploring the city and have now visited all the places you suggested._

_Montmartre and Sacre-Coeur, were amazing and I attended service two Sundays in a row._

_I also went to see Laurent at the Theatre de la Nuit. He took me out to dinner and we got on quite well. He's a gifted musician and speaks very highly of Bella and my father. He has a wife and twin girls. They sing like angels._

_Finally, I was walking along the Pont des Arts the other day and I noticed a huge old fashioned horse lock attached to the railing. I was drawn to it and saw that there was an inscription that read: _

_Jacob and Rosalie_

_In love forever_

_Mom and Dad, I miss you both terribly and in that moment we were together, thank you for leaving it for me._

_All my Love,_

_Captain Benjamin Black_

_15 September, 1918, Paris, France_

Everyone was excited to learn that the war was ending soon and that Benjamin might be returning within the year. Spirits in New York, and America in general, were high due to the reported devastation caused to the enemies throughout the autumn.

By the time pumpkins began appearing on stoops and in windows, it was rumored that the President had already sent an armistice to Versailles, waiting to be signed.

_My New York Family,_

_By now you have heard that a peace treaty has been signed and the fighting has stopped. We are overjoyed here and my men are shipping out for home tomorrow._

_I should be with them but I fear that it is only my letter that will find your embrace because I have been asked to stay._

_I have been promoted again and requested to contribute to the many treaties yet to be written. They will begin in January and I have much research and planning to do before then if I am going to help sort out the European empire._

_I will be away for a while longer but it is for peace and not war that I fight now._

_I wonder if my biggest battles are yet to come._

_Christmas Wishes,_

_Major Benjamin Black_

_16 November, 1918, Paris, France_

Jacob was especially proud of his son. The fact that he would be acting as a diplomat and helping usher in a new era in balanced power was inspiring. Esme cooked a big dinner at the theatre in celebration and they all told stories about Benjamin. Even Emmett stopped by leaving the Adam's Apple in the capable hands of Yan, who had a flair for bar tending and Boston, who had a flair for looking mean.

"I remember one time Benjamin was convinced that he could swim from Battery Park over to Ellis Island," Emmett said.

"That's not a big swim," Carlisle observed.

"He was five," Emmett replied and they all laughed.

"I think he used to see music the same way I do," Edward told them. "When he was a baby, I could see him following the waves as I played piano up in his room."

"I remember you telling me that," Rosalie turned to her brother. "I looked for it a few times after that when I was up there rocking him and Jacob was playing me a new song."

"He was always interested in the weapon but not it's mastery," Jasper revealed. "Not until he had to fight."

"But you taught him, right?" Rosalie was interested in only one answer despite Benjamin's distance from the front lines.

"Those last few weeks before he left for Vermont went well," Jasper stated, evaluating Benjamin's performance. "His size doesn't make him terribly fast, but he is cunning and very good at reading his opponent." Jasper looked over at Jacob. "He fights like you."

"Thank you." Jacob crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. It would have been a regal pose had he not forgotten to remove the napkin tucked into his shirt collar.

The clinking of forks on plates and cups on the table settled over the room while everyone enjoyed a respite from conversation.

"We spent a lot of time in the garden," Bella recalled. "Ben has climbed every single tree you know."

"We know," said half the table. Once he had climbed up into a tree and ended up on a branch that hung out over the building. Alice was the first to notice and even a quick vision of him eating a chicken leg later that night did little to ease her gut wrenching fear.

He had been older, perhaps twelve, but even well seasoned tree climbers do not need an extra fifty feet added to their fall. Let alone onto unforgiving cement. Alice was next to him in one of his heartbeats and with a sweet smile and an apology, she manhandled Benjamin quickly down to the grass before releasing and scolding him.

He admitted that he had been conquering a fear just then and was grateful for the hasty retreat once he saw how precarious his position truly was.

That incident did not go unreported and everyone got their turn waggling their finger at him.

Carlisle and Esme had many stories of his adventures in Central Park, as well as the museums which he loved beyond measure. He knew every fact by heart and could have acted as a guide by the age of six.

The elderly Cullens stayed at the theatre that night as they often did, sleeping in Benjamin's big bed and looking out over the city.

They ended up staying through Christmas and were regularly treated to music because Jacob was still in the habit of playing songs he had conjured on the road. It seemed like there was a never ending supply of vendors who sought a never ending supply of goods from his talented wife, but he was always back from his road trips by Wednesday nights and always had a kiss and a tune on his lips.

Christmas in New York was crisp that year and the lights of the city had long ago sent starlight into hiding. It was their second year without Benjamin and Esme took it the hardest.

* * *

Benjamin was at the Paris peace conference from January 1919 to January 1920. He was instrumental in drafting terms to institute a League of Nations and continued to impress leaders from around the globe with his foresight.

He was first assigned to keep the minutes but it became apparent that he was far too busy talking to adequately record the proceedings, so the task was assigned to a another officer. Benjamin's specialty seemed to be redefining borders. It was one of the most delicate parts of each treaty, but he weighed all his options and made intelligent arguments for all his decisions.

_My dearest family,_

_There are twenty-seven countries participating in these negotiations and they are taking place near the Seine in the Quai d'Orsay._

_We have completed the Treaty of Versailles and expect that it will be signed but under protest. It will be the reparations, no doubt. The terms state that Germany will pay 132 billion Marks. According to my calculations, it will take them until the year 1988 to pay it off. _

_President Wilson sent this message to the delegation when we were calculating the war guilt payment:_

_"Peace had to be a peace of reconciliation, a peace without victory, for a victor's peace would leave a sting, a resentment, a bitter memory upon which terms of peace would rest, not permanently, but only as upon quicksand."_

_The man has a point._

_My commanding officer remains pleased with my contributions and tells me that I will be a General some day._

_You all continue to be in my thoughts and I can't wait to eat American frankfurters again. (I am aware of the irony)._

_Major Benjamin Black_

_25th March, 1919, Paris, France_

_P.S. Is it true that the Yankees traded for Babe Ruth?_

He kept them all informed as to the progress of the documents, even though they wouldn't be signed in some cases for another year. It was exhausting work but he was at the center of global government and it was an exciting business.

_My forever loved family,_

_This has been a tough few weeks and I apologize for the reduction in my letters. We are working from sunrise to twilight and I find myself often falling asleep before I have had a chance to eat supper._

_We completed the Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye today. It will dissolve the Austro-Hungarian empire of Deutschösterreich and force them to recognize the independence of Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia._

_I have been invited to India while we take a small break between treaties and don't worry, I'll be careful. I should be there by the time you get this letter._

_All my love,_

_Major Benjamin Black_

_4 June, 1919, Paris, France_

Rosalie did not much like the idea of her son trotting off to India, but it was already too late to state her objections. She simply continued her work in the new steel era and made custom parts for New York City contractors. She made twice the money for a fraction of the work.

Best of all, Jacob no longer had to seek out retailers. Their business had grown so big that they sold most of their interests and focused of the singular jobs that came in from their own town and the giant skyscrapers that crept ever upward.

They even got to see the city from fantastic heights. Some buildings grew even taller than the Woolworth, which was an impossible sixty stories tall.

_My loving family,_

_Thank you for your letters, they have been an inspiration in these weary times. We have just completed the Treaty of Trianon and the Treaty of Neuilly. The latter was more difficult because it forces Bulgaria to cede Western Thrace to the Entente, which cut off its access to the Aegean Sea. They won't be happy, but they'll sign it._

_My trip to India was eye opening. The civilization is far more advanced than I thought they would be and have some wonderful engineers. I predict they will be a global power soon._

_We have one more treaty to pen and debate. We are calling it the Treaty of Sèvres and it will decide the fate of the Ottoman Empire. France and Greece have vested interests in this one and I fear that it will be as difficult as the Treaty of Versailles was._

_At least it will be my last official act before being sent home and I will do my best not to deprive you of a third Christmas without my presence._

_My whole heart,_

_Major Benjamin Black_

_21 October, Paris, France_

Benjamin's prediction was correct, the Treaty of Sèvres was indeed a difficult one to draft and would later be revised and not eventually signed until 1923. He did his part however, and felt that all parties had been treated fairly.

He missed Christmas though.

The military ship that brought him home pulled into New York Harbor on February 11th, 1920.

Benjamin could not believe how much the city had grown since his departure and was not surprised to learn that his mother had something to do with it.

* * *

Edward was listening to Bella sing.

They were in their wing of the theatre and the night was still young. He was looking out the window at streets that were completely motorized. It was downright rare to see a horse in the city unless they were pulling a buggy in Central Park.

It improved the smell of New York dramatically.

For a while.

The wartime prohibition was hard on the Adam's Apple. Emmett was not worried about a raid, but it became impossible to import all the different types of alcohol he needed. He held on through the war but when Congress passed the Volstead Act over the veto of President Wilson, he decided to act strictly as a hotel and simply deliver room service for his guests using what hooch he could get his hands on. He, like everyone else, did not believe that the ban on alcohol would last.

Five years after the war and everyone was still drinking lemonade at baseball games.

New York was rumored to have over twenty-five thousand speakeasies just on Manhattan Island alone. Emmett continued serving drinks room to room early each evening and that gave him a lot more time to pursue the interest of a pretty blonde vampire named Melissa, who was staying in New York for the summer.

She was from Chicago and she sang the most outrageous songs. Bella and Edward often accompanied them to various secret clubs that even changed locations.

Bella loved Melissa and paid very close attention to all the dirty songs she sang.

She was singing one as she put on make-up. It was a filthy little number called "Trouser Monkey" and when she was done Edward made an unusual request.

"Do you remember the one about using the bathroom on the train?"

She immediately launched into the new song and the lyrics were sung very quickly and to the tune of the Seventh Humoresque by Dvořák. Edward was impressed with her memory and her lip work.

"Passengers will please refrain

From flushing toilets while the train

Is standing in the station. I love you.

We encourage constipation

While the train is in the station.

Moonlight always makes me think of you.

If you simply have to go

When other people are too slow,

There is only one thing you can do.

You'll just have to take a chance,

Be brave, and do it in your pants,

But I'll forgive you, darling. I love you.

Every evening after dark

We goose the statues in the park;

If Sherman's horse can stand it, so can you.

Washington was very firm

And Lincoln didn't even squirm.

Darling, that's why I'm in love with you,

Mabel, Mabel, strong and able,

Get your big ass off the table.

Don't you know the quarter is for beer?

You can always earn your pay,

But make your tips another way,

And I'll forgive you, darling. I love you."

Edward applauded and she sat down in his lap. They looked out over the city and their reflection showed a happy couple that remained young despite their decades together.

"We are going to have to think about moving on you know," he whispered to her.

"New York is big enough for us to stay a while longer." She grabbed his hand and held it tightly in her lap. "You need to be here for your parents, Edward. Soon you'll have only me."

"I know." He smiled but he had heard his sister complaining about gray hair the other day and his parents were still feisty but in their seventies.

"Are you going to be alright after they're gone?"

"I'll have to be."

"I mean it, Edward." Bella's voice grew harsh. "If you have anything to say or do, you better do it because forever is a long time to live with regret."

Edward had no regrets, no words left unsaid. He loved his family and he made sure they knew it, but watching life slip off of them like rain was extremely painful. His parents seemed so small to him and his mother sometimes mistakingly called him by her brother's name.

"I've spoken to Jasper," he confessed. "He and Alice are going to live down south when the time comes. Their little place in Kentucky, he says. I think Emmett is going to move to Chicago with Melissa and leave the Apple to Boston, Yan and Lawrence."

"Where do you want to go?"

Edward looked out the window. "Somewhere quiet."

"I bet," she sympathized. He has spent decades listening to New Yorkers' inner monologues as well as their shouted debates. "Any place in mind?"

He thought for a moment. "How about the Pacific Northwest? Maybe we could find a place on the Washington coast."

Bella repositioned in his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. "That sounds perfect but it won't be for a while yet."

"I hope not," Edward laughed. "I still want my folks to see Ben become president."

Bella grinned. "Don't give him any ideas. When does he get back anyway?"

"Sometime tomorrow, but there is a letter downstairs addressed to a Colonel Benjamin Black that will no doubt send him off to Russia or Spain or someplace."

"He's happy," she said. "I wondered if that day would ever come."

"Me too."

"He would have found his way eventually."

"No, I mean that I'm happy too," Edward smiled. "I'm happy to be spending the rest of my life with you." He locked his forest green eyes on hers. They were honey brown and soft. "I knew it from the minute you walked out on stage that night."

Edward had been under Bella's spell from the beginning. Sitting in the midnight audience with his sister beside him three decades earlier, he had given his heart to a stranger and could only hope that she would take care of it. He had been clumsy but honest when they first spoke in her dressing room that night. He thought that he would die of nervousness and Bella had wondered why she had not killed him yet. He had been a virgin and that was enough to make her think twice. He had been sincere and gorgeous and pure and that was enough to make her stop thinking altogether.

"I remember thinking that I wanted to be with you forever," Edward said, his breath nudging Bella's hair. "But I never dreamed that I would literally get my wish."

"You did," she said as she turned and kissed him delicately on the lips.

"We both did."

* * *

**NOTES:**

**This is the last full chapter of the story, but a very important epilogue will post next Saturday.**

**Thank you all.**

**Morgan**


	31. Epilogue: C'est la pomme de terre

**Disclaimer:**

**Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight.**

**Morgan Locklear wrote 62 disclaimers.**

* * *

**Epilogue:**

**C'est la pomme de terre**

Benjamin walked slowly into the small Manhattan cemetery with two white roses clutched in his weathered but strong hands. He looked up into the trees and saw the looming city just beyond them.

Countless windows appeared to be peeking in at his sorrow, but Benjamin held firmly to the hope that since it was evening he was likely well hidden in the shadows.

He was in an old fashioned cemetery surrounded by a tall iron fence and front gates that were as ornate as they were heavy.

He could see the group of people up ahead, their shadows walking through one another like ebony ghosts. The area ahead of him was lit by a big circle of lanterns resting on the ground.

He did not walk towards the group right away. Instead, he stepped off the path and walked over to a pair of headstones bearing the names of his grandparents.

Esme had been the first to pass away and Carlisle had been with her, holding his wife in his arms. With her last words, she told him that she saw a white bench covered with dark green ivy and that she was going to wait for him there.

She did not have to wait long. Carlisle was a strong man, but his loneliness overtook him like a rust. He joined her less than a year later and his son gave a touching eulogy, celebrating the life of an exceptional man and revisiting the grace and heart of his mother.

Benjamin placed a white rose on the grass in front of each stone and wondered where the time had gone. Although his last trip to New York felt quite recent, it had been six months since he had visited the city of his birth. Benjamin's family had been unable to make this particular trip from Virginia because his wife was pregnant with their third child.

He was an alert man and quickly turned around even at a vampire's approach. His eyes rested on his Uncle Edward. Although it was never mentioned out loud, it was not lost on both men that the uncle now appeared young enough to be mistaken for the nephew's son. The fashion of the Forties suited both fit men.

"Good to see you again, Ben," Edward greeted him. He noticed his nephew's laugh lines even before he noticed the four silver stars on his beret.

"Hello, Uncle Edward." The men embraced like brothers. "How is my mother?"

"Looking for you, but if you need more time with Mother and Father..."

"No. I was on my way." Benjamin took another moment to look back at the graves of his grandparents. "I like knowing that they'll be here with him tonight...when we all go home." The thought nearly brought on the cascade of tears Benjamin had been expecting but hoped to save until after his official duties were complete.

He was determined to speak well and honor the man who had given him his voice as well as his eyes. Benjamin swallowed hard and smiled bitterly as he told himself to keep his gentlemanly composure for the sake of his mother.

Edward waited patiently. He understood. The loss of his own parents still bit into his heart on a daily basis and it had been nearly ten years since their passing. That evening would see him suffering a third bite, but he knew that it was the price the immortal paid for a ticket to an eternal happily ever after.

After Benjamin took a moment to allow himself a few deep breaths and a good throat clearing, he tugged on his overcoat lapels. "Let's go."

The two men started walking together and when they entered the lanterned ring of light, Edward told Benjamin that his parents had used similar lighting at their wedding.

Friends and family filled six rows of pale green wooden chairs with a center aisle. The rows were rounded and they all faced a dark square hole in the earth. Above it, his father's casket was suspended by several wooden rods. The coffin was, of course, made of redwood.

Benjamin took one look at it and froze as he realized that the funeral was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. He breathed in through his nose and swallowed hard once again just as he felt a comfortable cool hand settle on his back.

_You can do this, Ben._

It was as if Edward hadn't spoken to him at all, but his voice was there as a warm encouragement just the same. He remembered that happening a lot with his uncle when he was younger. The two of them had always shared a special connection.

Rosalie stood when she saw her son. Over time her hair had turned completely white but Benjamin found it an even more beautiful shade than the blonde color of her youth. Her eyes, however, still belonged to the twenty year old girl who had fallen in love with his father in Paris. He crossed over to his mother and felt like a child all over again. It was not unpleasant.

"I'm so glad you made it here alright, Sweetheart." She hugged him, clung to him actually, and did not let go until the priest approached the casket and began to pray quietly to himself.

Benjamin looked around and saw that Edward was taking his seat next to Bella. She smiled at him and she looked both beautiful and tragic. She quietly took Edward's hand as soon as he sat down and held it tightly in her lap.

Benjamin sat down next to his mother, who took his hand in the exact same way.

When the priest concluded his private prayers, he welcomed everyone with a strong voice. He then read from a white Bible with a gold leaf flared cross on the cover before he introduced Bella Cullen.

He said only that she was his oldest friend.

If anyone thought that it was strange that Jacob's oldest friend looked like she wasn't even old enough to drink alcohol, Edward did not hear it.

Bella walked up and touched the casket behind her and whispered something only Edward heard. He admired her strength and how her thoughts were still focused on their friend instead of her own personal sadness.

She then turned to face the group of people, sixty or more, who came to pay their respects. In their faces she saw love, admiration, and loss.

"If there is anyone who deserves to sleep in peace forever, it is Jacob Black." Bella's voice was clear, but clearly emotional. "I urge you not to spend another moment worrying about his happiness," Bella continued. "He found that a long time ago, and that's the one thing you can take with you."

She looked lovingly at Rosalie. "He has you to thank for that...and so do I." The women shared an affectionate look after Rosalie wiped her eye with Benjamin's ready handkerchief.

Bella then glanced at a small white upright piano that sat to the right of the casket. "Some of you may not know that Jacob was a romantic and that he wrote hundreds of songs for his wife." She gestured toward Edward. "My husband and I were in Spain with him when he wrote a song called "Conspicuous Smile". They sang it together because he was too shy to do it alone." She paused. "But it was still one of the bravest things I have witnessed to this day. He thought that he had already lost his chance with her, but he sang anyway."

Bella looked over at the casket again. It was still close enough to touch, but she resisted. "He usually wrote when he was away from her and lonely, which happened a lot when they were first married and had Ben. He was on the road drumming up business for a business that practically made its own drums."

She received a big laugh and that both surprised and relaxed her.

"He would sing them to her whenever he came back home. Sometimes five or six at a time. He tried to keep it all a secret of course, so he played them for her on the piano in Benjamin's room at night when everyone was out."

She looked over at her nephew. "Ben ratted him out a long time ago."

This earned her another laugh and Rosalie felt intense gratitude for Bella's light approach. It was exactly what Jacob would have wanted.

"Edward is now going to sing one of Jacob's songs. It's Rosalie's favorite and she wanted all of you to hear." Bella began to walk towards her seat. Edward stood and he pulled his wife into a short embrace as they passed each other.

The piano had been carried into the cemetery by six of their vampire friends. Two of them could have easily completed the task, but they used six to make everything look good. Edward stopped next to the casket and placed his hand on the polished wood. When he looked down he saw his own face staring back at him, appearing distorted and lost.

Edward then took it in for a moment. He was going to remember what his reflection looked like in Jacob's coffin vividly throughout his very long life. He then glanced over at his sister. He wanted to make sure that she was ready to hear the song. Rosalie registered his look of concern and nodded her head. Her thoughts were clear.

_Sing it just like you did for me last night...it will be perfect...but if I have to get up and leave... just know that I love you, baby brother._

Edward's lip quivered as walked over to the piano. He blamed his sister's unexpected sentiment for shaking the solid foundation he had built in order to get through such an emotional song at his best friend's funeral. Instead of getting his sadness under control, his quiver took hold of him and shook him like a rug. He faltered in his step and that alone told Bella that he was in trouble.

One never knows when one's emotional cup is going to overflow, even if one has preemptively exchanged it for a barrel. Edward began to sob, his chest heaving up and down and he turned to apologize to Rosalie, but could not see her through the force of his tears.

He lurched over to the piano and used it to steady himself. He had only one choice and as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief that Bella had already stolen from him, Edward closed his eyes and went to a place in his mind where a great barnyard stood.

Animals were milling around when he opened his eyes. A few goats, some pigs, at least a dozen dogs and two cats that he had come to know as Greta and Grace. They were the guardians of his wisdom.

There were also plenty of horses and cows in the fields and a group of bats roosting in the barn beams. Edward did not know yet what the bats represented, and was not sure if he ever wanted to.

He scooped up what he came for - the "worry chickens." They were clustered all together, investigating something near the well. He was fortunate that he didn't have to search for them and made sure they were securely placed in a horse stall in the barn, where they soon bumped into wooden walls with soft thuds.

When Edward reopened his eyes the piano appeared blurry, so he wiped his tears away with his thumbs as he made his way around to the bench and sat down. The piano was short enough to allow him to face his listeners and he did so with drying cheeks.

Edward cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I thought I forgot the words for a minute there." The small joke let everyone know that he was alright and those in the audience were all visibly relieved. "Jacob told me once that music helped him feel closer to Rosalie. I hope it will now help you feel closer to him."

He peered down at the two wet thumb prints on his pants before he began to play and knew that his trip into the barnyard was a wise decision. Still, his hands were ready before he was and released the music waiting inside the piano almost immediately.

The notes were mournful and Edward played with a seasoned touch. His voice however, remained sweet and innocent sounding.

_**"I like to hear you breathing when you're sound asleep.**_

_**It has me near believing...images I'll keep...**_

_**with me in the car...when I have to travel far away from you.**_

_**And the radio... Says 'I told you so' over and over too.**_

_**I like to hear you breathing when you're sound asleep.**_

_**And when you wake up you look at me with heavy eyes**_

_**And your sleepy smile takes a while to rise."**_

As Rosalie listened to Edward sing the second verse, she remembered back to her time with Jacob in the gardens of Versailles. They had been alone in the Temple of Love at midnight when she suggested that they be married by the moon with the stars as their witnesses.

They had made love right there in the gazebo and afterwards they had jumped naked into the river and let the cool water carry them back to the Queen's hamlet they were staying in.

Edward indulged in a small interlude after the second verse and began the third with a new warmth to his voice.

_**"I like to watch you dreaming when you're sound asleep.**_

_**With your subconscious streaming...Images I'll keep...**_

_**With me to the end...where you'll always be the friend down to my soul**_

_**And I won't forget all the times you never let me lose control.**_

_**I like to watch you dreaming when you're sound asleep.**_

_**And when you wake up you look at me with heavy eyes**_

_**And your sleepy smile takes a while to rise."**_

Edward had been singing with his eyes closed and when he opened them, he was looking directly at Benjamin. He was a handsome man whose hair was still dark but had a salt and pepper Van Dyke beard. When they had spoken at the graveside of Edward's parents he had seemed quiet and run down, but he was the first to put his hands together to start a modest round of applause and smiled with bright eager eyes.

Benjamin stood and shook his uncle's hand as he passed. "You did him proud just now, Edward. Thank you."

Benjamin remained standing and turned to deliver the eulogy. He spoke with certainty and reverence.

"My father was born in a different time. More than that, he was born in a different world." He knew that the metaphor would strike his family members as more of a pun. "He came to America in 1892 with a girl he had just met and they were soon married at St. Patrick's. The very next year, I was born."

He looked at his mother and smiled. She had held up well during the song and seemed almost at peace. Her resolve gave Benjamin the strength to continue, even though he felt he felt his face grow hot. He spoke quietly.

"The span of my lifetime was almost all the time they had together on this earth...and I'm not even fifty."

He let silence fall on the graveyard like frost.

"Fortunately, I've learned that time is not the only way to measure things. There's love for instance. And if you measure their time together in love, my parents lived a thousand lifetimes."

He looked over to Bella and Edward and suddenly wondered who had it better - a couple who got to have a happy ending or a couple who would never end?

"My father's contribution to the great city of New York is now a landmark and I am pleased to say that my family and I will be moving into the Theatre of the Heart this month. We will see to it that the stage is always lit on Friday nights." A thousand memories of a hundred performances snuck by Benjamin in a fraction of a second. "My children can't wait to move in and my wife received more books in the will than I did."

This brought out a healthy chuckle from the crowd.

"I can think of no better way to spend my retirement from military service, and my mother is positively delighted to have her grandchildren in her home."

He took one last look around. "My father's presence will always be felt in this city."

Benjamin took his seat.

The priest then rose and said the proper prayers to commit Jacob's body to the earth. The casket was then lowered into the dark by those same vampire friends who had brought the piano in. It was all done in silence and it took far too long for Rosalie. If it had to be done at all, then she wanted it done quickly.

Jasper threw the first shovel of dirt on the coffin. No one else wanted to do it at all, let alone be the first, but he pointed out to everyone how important it would be to them later on that they were a part of Jacob's eternal resting place. "All we have of him now is the earth," he had told them. "Use it."

Everyone took a turn. Some, like Bella, dropped a sliver of dirt on the casket and moved away quickly while others, like Emmett, put their backs into the task and worked for several minutes.

When it was all over, Edward found his sister.

"I'm glad that Ben is moving back in."

"Me too," she admitted. "But you're staying too, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"I know you're worried about me Edward, but this is what Jacob wanted. I was there with him and this is what he wanted. As long as I know that he had the life he deserved then I can't be sad."

Edward had always admired his sister's pragmatism. "You gave Jacob the best gift anyone could. You know that?"

"What was that?"

"He never had to lose you."

She looked pointedly at him. "But you will."

Edward no longer admired her pragmatism and bristled.

"I know what it feels like to lose a sibling, remember? I cleaned up your blood in the parlor that night and Mom and I were both certain that you were dead. Are you going to be alright?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I'll have Bella. I'll always have Bella."

Benjamin approached just then and escorted his mother to his car, where he drove her back to 34th and Eighth Ave. He and his family lived with her for the rest of her life as the laughter of children once again filled the happy halls of the majestic theatre.

Edward and Bella remained in New York until Rosalie passed. Soon after her funeral, they moved to a remote town in Washington state that was located near an indian reservation. They spent their days in the dense forests and Edward loved that he could hear only his lover's voice in his ear.

Jasper and Alice were happy in Kentucky. They had a small farm, but they liked to travel and showed up at least four times a year at Edward and Bella's home in the Pacific Northwest, usually staying for several weeks at a time. They saw Emmett even more than that.

Emmett had moved to Chicago with Melissa and love gave his live new purpose. His efforts in New York, however, had ushered in a new era of vampires opting to drink pig blood as a matter of course and had therefore made the most significant contribution to their kind that any vampire could recall. Others soon grew to respect the humans they shared the planet with.

New York grew up even more around that little city cemetery but Jacob's faded tombstone stands there still, alongside Rosalie's.

Inside his casket, a small red book rested securely in his arm. Jasper had placed it there for safe keeping, certain that Jacob would forever guard its secrets.

Tucked in the crook of his other arm was a wine bottle that Jasper had brought over with the rest of his blood cellar collection during the move from Paris. It was filled with a dark, red liquid and the word 'Black' was etched into the cork.

Meanwhile, Jacob was having such amazing dreams that he didn't even know he was dreaming.

* * *

**Afterward:**

**I have always felt that Jacob was the hero of this story and the hero always sacrifices something to save his friends. That's what makes him the hero. In this case however, I think Bella put it best: "If there is anyone who deserves to sleep in peace forever, it's Jacob Black."**

**There is a link to the song Sound Asleep on my author's page. I hope you have enjoyed all the music produced for this tale.**

**This has been the first work of fiction I have ever shared with an audience and I appreciate you all coming along for the ride. Now I am very excited to finish reading The Singer and the Sorrow by MG2112.**

**Although I will continue to update Cockeyed Optimist and will even begin a new story with my wife, RandomCran, called EXPOSURE, I am excited to slow things down and work on a very funny and very gory zombie book I started way back before the Twilight books distracted me. I have at least eight more ideas after that and I'm sure that this experience has turned me into a writer for the rest of my life.**

**Thank you Jennifer for your encouragement and your diligence.**

**Thank you Josie for your attention to detail and all your wicked ideas.**

**Thank you ShabbyApple for your constant timely updates.**

**Thank you Daizie for creating my fun Twilighted thread.**

**Thank you Adamanta Banks for your insight on so many things.**

**Thank you Amy Morgan for two years of advice and counsel.**

**Thank you Just Duckie for making my Big Spoon, Little Spoon and Baby Spoon avatars.**

**Thank you Betti for designing my blinkie.**

**Thank you Rick, Betti, Dany, and Brian for making Bella Parole music with me.**

**Thank you Mingo for making those songs available for everyone to hear.**

**Thank you Raum for all your help with Italian, especially the title of this story.**

**Thank you SR for bro support.**

**Thank you Readers and Reviewers. Your presence and your words have meant more than this writer could ever express.**

**Morgan**


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